


The Queen's Gambit

by WesternScribe



Category: Blood of Zeus (Cartoon), Blood of Zeus (Netflix)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Ambrosia, Blood and Gore, Demigods, Demons, Divine Intrigue, F/M, Manipulation, Mortals, Passive-aggression, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Smut, Too Many Gods to Name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternScribe/pseuds/WesternScribe
Summary: At times when the Goddess Hera cannot stomach the games of her husband, she decides to play her own.
Relationships: Hera/ Seraphim
Comments: 40
Kudos: 63





	1. The Scorned Ram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...is a fearsome creature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as smut practice but developed a plot somewhere along the way.

There was only one candle left burning when she fluttered through the tent flaps of his pavilion. The demon lay on his back, head against a mountain of furs. His eyes were closed, breath even, though she knew he was not asleep. One black, clawed hand rested upon his abdomen, rising and falling in his comfort. In his peace. She decided to break it.

Her feet moved against the bear skin rushes, and only then did his pointed ears perk in registration. His eyes shot open like a bolt. The demon sat up, leaned forward, ready to pounce in an instant. Hera thought it all rather humorous.

"Calm yourself, child."

" _You_." He spat. The word ringing with both disdain and accusation. "What do you want now?"

The arrogance, the entitlement, caused her anger to spark.

"Do not presume to question _me_. Rise."

In answer, the demon curled his lips defiantly and narrowed red eyes to slits. This wouldn't do, not at all; and yet, it made no matter. She smirked.

"The hour is late. Perhaps you did not hear me. I said," she willed him into position, "to rise."

The familiar lavender glow of her power radiated against his body. He was forced to his feet, struggling all the while. This night, Hera decided to adopt the height of a mortal. She looked up into his pinched face.

"Things will be easier if only you cease this foolish resistance."

As a show of good will she released him. Though his jaw remained clenched and his bare chest heaved, the demon seemed resigned to his fate and relaxed ever so.

"Wise boy." She touched his shoulder. "Tell me," her hands moved over him- his arms, his collarbone, his neck, resting upon the sides of his face, "what do you wish for most?"

This game she started grew more entertaining with each encounter.

"Revenge."

"You shall have it. But first," she caressed his smooth chin and began to will him clean, "I shall have you."

The process took but moments, as it always did. She extracted every pollutant from his form. Soon charcoal gray skin turned olive brown, clawed black hands became dull and calloused as any other mortal's. Silver-white hair muted dark and darker until it seemed black, even to her eyes. Horns melted away, leaving smooth leveled skin. His eyes were always last to change. From red they went orange then yellow and gold and finally all the shades of brown until the color matched his hair. A demon no longer was he.

The child stood before her now without the perverted graces of long fallen Giants. It shocked him the first time. It angered him the second. He was always angry and that was just as well, for she'd a rage all her own. To see it mirrored with such vigor suited her rather perfectly. By the third time, he was unfazed with the transformation.

His hand was warm against her skin as he grabbed her wrist, frowning. "Then take your pleasure and be on your way."

Despite herself, her easy anger, her haughtiness, she laughed. Even his voice changed. It was lighter now, the timbre clear and strong. She altered him completely and here he stood, cocksure and expectant with every assurance of his sex. It made no difference for Gods or mortals _. Men are fools all alike_. "Will you never learn? How many times must I remind you?" She wrenched her arm from him. "I have the power here." She forced him to his knees. "You are but a mortal." Two breaths and her hold abated; she was not here to punish the boy after all. Hera knelt and held his chin up with her forefinger. "That can change. Worship me properly, do as I bid you, and you will have all I promised and more."

He pursed his lips, silent and stubborn _. Such an obstinate boy_. His left eye was clouded, pale and milky. The scar beneath it rough around the cheekbone. She brushed it with her thumb.

"Alright." His whispered breath tickled the skin just below her wrist.

He made quick work of his pathetic excuse for clothing and eagerly reached to discard her own. She swatted his hands away. He was mortal, with only the brawn and abilities of such, and yet the strength radiating from him excited her. Strange as it was. _Is this what my brother feels when he decides to bed a whore?_

It was all more than a little intoxicating. She could scarcely remember other paramours. Her brother was all there was for eons, but this dalliance-

And with a mortal no less.

"Lay back upon your bedding."

He did so without comment. The child was magnificent in a way, rough and hard and lean and sinew. His thick hair fell about the furs and his shoulders, brushing his nipples, the plains of his abdomen in rich dark waves. Hera stepped from her gown of silks, allowing it to pool to the floor.

His eye followed her every move: the sway of her hips, the bounce of her breasts. The closer she grew, the more his gaze lingered upon her cunt. When she reached him, his penis stood proud and upright from a nest of dark curls, the tip brown and glistening, weeping. He could feign indifference all he wished; she knew he anticipated these meetings more eagerly than he would ever say. Had she chosen, confirming her suspicions would be no task at all.

She heard his heartbeat quicken as she sat astride his hips. His scent filled her nostrils. The boy smelled fresh, of spring water and the ivory soap mortals used on occasion. Hera's game was played only after he cleansed himself. The ritual became a regular occurrence once he connected her visits to his baths.

He hissed long and low when she grasped his shaft, rubbing the tip along the slit of her lips. He moved to grab her hips when she tsked-

"None of that. Control yourself."

He gritted his teeth and balled his fists instead. The Goddess Hera hummed in pleasure as she sank down, taking him in completely. She was ready, had been for a while, and the ridges of this mortal child felt as marvelous as she remembered her brother's feeling, when they were in love. She hadn't touched her brother, wouldn't touch her brother, for years. If he wished to fuck all and sundry in this domain, let him. He'll have his due soon. For now, she would content herself with this boy who’s fucked naught but her.

She rolled her hips against him, moving him deeper inside. He gasped when her nails pierced the skin of his shoulder. Her smile was wide and bright and glorious. This mortal filled her entirely. She could feel him in the depts of her core. Her movements were fluid, quite like a wave riding upon him, and with each stroke, unintelligible words mixed with his groans. She liked that about him. Soon, he began to try for dominance, stubborn boy that he was. His movements matched her own and they developed a rhythm. He learned quickly, a boon as well as a danger when applied to pawns. The dull nails of his hand grasped the top of her right thigh.

"Your hand." She breathed. "Remove... it."

Frowning, he buried it into the black furs beside them. The next thrusts were hard, and rather surprisingly, she cried out. His eyes were feral as he glared at her, grunting with each motion. She could strike him, she supposed, or do something worse. _What to do?_

In that moment, the demon lifted her, feet planted, elbow under them, and rammed into a spot he hadn't yet reached. Her moan traveled all the way to her belly. Her eyes fluttered closed. She hadn't felt that since-

Hera looked at him once she recovered. The boy was pleased with himself. His smirk should have annoyed her, would have annoyed her, had he not continued the action. It was vicious. _It was lovely_. There seemed to be naught to do but hold onto his shoulders firmly and bare her teeth. Somehow, his hands found purchase against her waist and she allowed him to keep them there. Her head fell back. Her chest stuck out. Her eyes were drawn to the shield and crossed longswords mounted upon the beams above them. He grew bolder, taking one perked nipple into his mouth while she was distracted. He swirled his tongue around the bud and sucked hard. It would leave her pale flesh purple were she mortal, but she didn't care about that. Her hands moved to his head, roamed against his scalp, became lost in his hair.

She looked down. He peered up. His nipples were rough against the suddenly sensitive underside of her breasts. Her braid fell over her right shoulder, covering her right breast, falling between them. As they moved, he panted, open mouthed and wild. His eye, not blue, _never blue_ , was glazed with lust and rage and excitement and a thousand differing emotions. It was a curious thing. This was a curious child.

Her pleasure built quickly. Hera leaned back until her palms touched the smooth bear skin behind her. Gaining leverage, she ground her cunt against him as he held her back, pumping quickly, mercilessly, into her.

His grunts were loud, though her cries louder, and in no time at all, she spasmed. He kept moving, it was a game after all, and he'd just won. This time. Her mind was hot and white and for the briefest of moments, his pavilion flashed bright in her lavender ecstasy.

She felt his seed shoot into her, hot and sharp. Breath heavy, his face fell against her chest, between the breasts. His cheeks still held a dusky flush when she framed them with her hands, forcing him to meet her eye.

"I've another task for you."

She felt him stir inside her anew.

"Not that." Her thumb brushed his scar again. _Such fragile things mortals are_.

"State your meaning." Clipped, though too pathetic for a sneer.

"You've a sharp tongue, boy. I do not allow such insolence even of Gods. Mind your speech if you wish to keep it."

He glared at her, lower lip poking out slightly. This Seraphim looked a child, but then all mortals were but children to her. She brushed her thumb against his lip. It was soft and moist. She wondered if this would be the time she kissed him.

"In the caves, along the southern coasts near Lakonia, you will find an ally."

"Will this one try to kill me as well?"

She chuckled. "I would have no use of him if he didn't." She swept a tendril of hair behind his ear. "Bring a satyr for him as offering. He may be hungry."

"And where shall I find this delicacy?"

She hummed, exhaled. "It's mating season for them on Nisyros. Bring three. That should appease him."

"Who am I recruiting?"

"One of my brother's pets. Though for you, his bite can be worse than his bark. Follow my instructions and you shall have no conflict."

"Of course." He rolled his eye, licked his lips again. "Is that all?"

She came to a decision. "For now." Extracting herself from his embrace, she used her power to float, to retrieve her gown, to primp and preen her hair. He stared in wonder, mouth agape, hands behind him, leaning against the ground.

The ablution began to wear thin. His skin started shifting gray, red lines returning. Horns began to sprout. His hair ashed and whitened. His voice regained its dissonance. He was no longer a mere mortal. This child was a demon once more.

"Rise."

"Again?"

"Always." There was no need for soft lavender power this time. Obedience was growing easier for him. One tryst at a time.

She stood before his nakedness, touched one graying cheek, and looked up into crimson eyes. "When next I come, you shall learn better uses for your tongue."

Her other hand caught the nape of his neck. She pulled him down into a kiss before he could protest. His lips were soft and warm, as she expected. She coaxed them apart and explored his mouth. He tasted of oranges and sweet wine. She ran her tongue along teeth that sharpened to fangs. He met her dance and held her close until she broke away.

"Next time." Disappointment flickered through his eyes for an instant and absurdly, her stomach fluttered.

She heard a few of her ravens perched upon a tree in the distance, cawing in unison. Her brother was on the move. _The time is now-_

One last brush of his lips. "I must go. Do not fail me."

His eyes were soft. "I never fail."

Her smile was perhaps a little too bright. "See that you don't." The Goddess Hera regained her wings and left the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some twisted part of me loves Hera's dominance. I say feed her crazy. The fire's top tier entertainment. What do you think? Thanks for reading.


	2. A Crown for a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...weighs heavily upon the brow.

_I need you to retrieve a sword..._

Seraphim washed to shore at dawn that day, retching gallons of water upon the wet sand before stumbling through underbrush and thickets, face still burning from the brine.

_... kill the man meant to wield it._

That man seemed to follow him lately. It was a strange thing. They were brothers. They'd the same face. It was obvious why she wanted him dead, but to what end would he face him? How was he to fight a man protected by lightening itself? They were answers he intended to receive and soon.

It took him an hour to find a road and days to find his chimera. The beast was loyal. He flew low, circled along the shoreline looking for him, and seemed happy to hear his whistle.

When he returned to his encampment, the men were shocked to see him alive, surely he would have perished. That annoyed him perhaps more than it should have. He drove his bident through the chest of the fourth man to gawk as he passed.

It was an impulsive move, those thunderbolts wiped out a portion of his naval force. He'd no men to spare at the moment. He needed to replenish his host. There would be room enough for his whims soon. After another village, maybe two-

They steered clear of him thereafter, until Alexios, the most efficacious of his strategoi, sought fit to speak with him. He'd just left his weaponsmith's forge. Leonido, the grizzly old man, made even more grizzled with his change, presented him with a stock of fine new blades, each one grander than the last. Seraphim was drawn to a gold hilted dagger. As he sliced and slashed through the air, it felt more and more an extension of his arm.

"My king." The strategos stood at attention as he passed a great gnarled oak tree. He bowed slightly and fell into step beside him.

"General." They walked along the path that wound atop the highest of the rolling hills they've settled for the nonce. Seraphim heard the clang and clatter before he saw the sparing. He stopped to watch a group of boys train with sword and shield. The fights were rather satisfying. His gaze swept over the large class. He handpicked each child. They were strong enough to see the cowardice of their parents' pleading for what it was. Fine warriors they will be in time. The slow spreading gray of his influence was proof enough for that.

"What are your orders?" Alexios folded his arms above his chest and gave him a sidelong glance. "Are we to stay the discussed course?"

Seraphim frowned. More and more, it felt his plans were turning to ash. "Walk with me."

The summit was reached quickly. The wind was still, and the high sun beamed hot as he appraised his dominion. Though his host stretched for miles, what remained littered only half of the valley below.

"What do you see, Alexios?"

He didn’t miss the strategos' hesitance. The man eyed him warily and proceeded with caution. "Your strength, my king."

Seraphim spat upon the ground. "Curious," he glared at the tents, the men, "all I see is ineptitude. A third of our men are at the bottom of the Aegean. We've been crippled. We're vulnerable." He turned to look at the general. "How might we change that?"

Alexios held his stare. The man would be no strategos had he not. "More men." 

"More men." He agreed.

"There is a polis two days' march south. Scouts report three farm villages in between."

The wind whistled as Seraphim cut through the air before him. "Good. Recruit the good people." He slashed a back handed blow to his left. "Put all who resist to the sword."

The dagger was a fine weapon indeed. He held it up to the sun's light. The blade glinted with it. It was sharp, black, and resplendent. Pure obsidian. _Strong enough to-_

"Spare the children. I will have none harmed."

A sharp nod of Alexios' white head was confirmation enough.

"Off with you now."

In the end they took four farm villages, two poleis, and half of Pydna. Eight days had passed since he resumed command and he knew she would come soon. As he marched his men through the Mountains of Makedonía, he noticed raven after raven perched in trees, flying around him, circling him, watching him. Her eyes were on him. Her eyes were everywhere.

When they passed the jagged cliffs, he knew it was the perfect spot to abide. There were forests to the west, thick and rich with game. For his tent, he chose land near the bluffs. He required the ocean close at hand. There, the vegetation was sparse upon the plateau, giving way to smooth sediment.

They weren't far from a river. He washed the ride and the walk from his skin, took care to clean his scalp, his hair. She was fond of his hair for some reason. At dusk, he supped with his strategoi. The men circled the campfire, eating strips of deer, herbed meat still red, dripping with blood and fear.

"Wine, my king?" The fat one, Nikoloas, offered the flagon with an unmeasured swing of his stout arm. Seraphim permitted no drunkards in his ranks. The man was well inebriated, graphite cheeks darkened, grinning widely, showing most of his fanged teeth through spouts of hiccupping laughter. Seraphim's nostrils flared as he exhaled in disgust. He'd warned this fool once. One too many times to be certain. It was no surprise that Nikoloas fell into the habits of his lesser self. Giants' flesh could only change a man so much. All the same, it was such a _waste_. With sound mind and war before him, the strategos was formidable... but now-

_Malàka._

Vaguely, he was aware of each set of eyes from around the circle. They watched him, waiting to see how he might respond to this cretin. Seraphim was a man of might, but also of mind, long years of reflection and plotting taught him such. He didn't particularly find great joy in killing those who swore fealty to him, but decapitation engendered loyalty as well as self-control, self-amelioration. Impulsivity rarely produced desired results, and yet, what was he to do now?

His lip curled in annoyance.

_I should kill him. No room for weakness._

Nikoloas quaffed more wine and nudged his elbow against another strategos, the girl, Ellia.

"Don't taste like piss, no." He leered, leaned into her in his drunkenness. She was uncomfortable with the man's advances. "Try it yourself. Got it from some nobleman at the last polis. A fine vintage it is, truly." The wine was black in the darkness as it splashed upon her chiton, staining it. Nikoloas laughed at the sight, prompting Seraphim to make his decision. "Don't worry none about that. Wash right out it will-"

His head rolled to the floor before he knew he'd died, blinking in shock, twitching and gasping. It stopped at the base of the flames. Blood sprayed from the neck twice, black as the wine, running down the ruined chest, before the body slumped backward to the ground with a thud.

Seraphim sliced his bident through the air, flinging blood upon the dirt. He rose and grabbed the clay handle of the flagon from Nikoloas' lifeless grasp. It was half full. It would suffice.

He turned, stopping before Ellia. "His belongings are now yours."

She stared at him as though he had grown a new head. "My king? I-," she remembered herself. "Thank you." Ellia nodded sharply, eyes cast down.

He frowned at the circle of strategoi, turned and left. The wind blew crisp as he made his way to his tent atop its small hill. The moon was full, pale, bright, luminous. The wine sloshed around the jug as he moved. Atop the hill the night was dark, the fires below were as copious as the stars in the heavens. As far as he could see his army expanded: bonfires and tents and his Melidoni. Soon, all the world will bear his mark. Soon, there will be no weakness. Only strength.

He smiled to himself, took a swig of the wine, and hummed in approval.

"A fine vintage indeed."

The inside of his tent was well warm. Seraphim unfastened his belt. He propped his bident against a table full of maps and hung his himation upon a chair. He put the new dagger, hilt warm from his body heat, under the furs that piled to pillow his head.

The events of the past fortnight returned to him with terrible vividity. That polis, that hovel, the sword, that man...

_That man with his face-_

His brother. _His twin._

He drank more wine.

And the lightening. It was a wonder he wasn’t electrocuted... or drowned. He came too far to die now. There was still much to be done.

_Your mother was murdered._

Two mothers were murdered. Was he just as helpless to prevent the second? It felt so.

 _Too rash. I was too rash_. He cursed himself, gulping the last of the sweet reprieve.

And yet, she'd have been a crutch. No room for weakness had he. Not since he lost brothers. Not since he lost an eye. Only strength now. Only strength.

The brazier in the corner of his tent burned low, nearly to embers, as he waited. After what may have been an hour, perhaps two, she came in a great whoosh of fabrics. The Goddess said nothing for long moments, watching him as she floated. The radiance of her skin glowed pale through his closed eyelids. He heard every shift of movement. When it suited her, the soles of her sandals met the furs of his floor.

Her toe nudged the heel of his foot before she spoke, before he opened his eyes. "Rise, child."

He did as she bid, though not too eagerly. This meeting must appear as typical as the last. She flicked her wrist and the brazier ignited anew, brilliant orange flames licking the air above it. The Goddess was smaller than him again, the size of a human woman, though little was human about her. Her crystalline eyes, too clear for anything of this world, regarded him with suspicion.

"Is he dead?"

_The man with his face-_

"He is no threat to you now."

Her smirk was pernicious. "Whatever gave you the idea that he was a threat?"

She was provoking him. Purposely no doubt. He was stronger than this. He chose not to capitulate.

"He is beyond your reach."

Her eyes narrowed and the crystals turned to ice. "You will learn your place child, if you do not wish to join him."

Seraphim remained silent. If he opened his mouth, he would say the wrong thing and miss his opportunity. He was stronger than this.

The Goddess sighed and stepped toward him. "Tell me," she touched his elbow, grazed his arms, her fingers were a whisper against his chest, "what do you wish for most?"

There was such emotion in her eyes. They were poignant. _Had someone hurt her?_ An unexpectedly large degree of rage flickered through him for an instant, only an instant.

"Revenge."

The slightest curl of her lips. "Then you shall have it." Her hands were warm upon his face. He held her wrist gentle enough as he looked down into her eyes. "... but first, I shall have you."

She reached up, brushing her thumb across his scarred left cheekbone, and worked her magic.

The world around him dulled. No longer could he hear the breaking of the ocean waves upon the rocks below the cliff. The woods were silent to him, when moments before they were alive with deer and fox, wolf and bear. He couldn't smell the salt of the sea or see her in all her majesty. His left eye clouded to blindness. She made him weak again.

Her fingers moved along his jaw and went to his hair, still damp from washing, though she seemed not to mind. It should be dry by the time Helios chariots the dawn.

"Take your pleasure." His voice sounded strange. It always did with her. "And be on-"

She kissed him. Her tongue moved upon his flattened teeth and against the side of his mouth before reaching his own. Arms crossed behind his neck, she pulled him into her. Her waist was there, slim and curved and snug in his grasp. When she tore away from him, he was out of breath.

Her smile was sharp. "Lay upon your bedding."

He needed the elevated position. _What was it she had said?_ "Allow me," her grin melted, eyes became dubious, "to worship you properly." The Goddess' head tilted a fraction. He grabbed her hand with care, entwining their fingers. "To please you with my mouth."

Her lips tightened. "As you will."

The silks of her gown pooled to the floor, rustling as she stepped from it. The smooth, creamy plains of her skin held a golden tinge, reminding him of young fawns. The ever-present glow was soft and radiant and ethereal. Her breasts, ample, buxom things, bounced with each stride. His cock twitched at the sight. The sway of her hips was quite mesmerizing. Her ass was plump and firm and jiggled everso as she moved. He wanted to touch it- _needed to touch it_ \- but he dared not move. It would be too easy to lose himself to this physical passion. He was in control. No room for weakness had he. _I must tread with caution._

He cleared his throat, concentrated. The Goddess sat where he normally sleeps, bare back against the mounds of fur, in the center of his grand pallet. Her nipples were fine points of magenta. She closed her legs, bent them, folding them to the side, and stared at him, head held high with all the pompous egotism that could only belong to a God.

She quirked a brow. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Seraphim did not narrow his eyes. He gave no biting retort. He walked to her instead. Squatting, he grabbed her ankles with one hand and tugged until she lay flat on her back. She gasped and glared in turn.

Sitting upon his legs, his hands moved lightly, sliding up her calves, along her parting thighs. Her cunt was rose and mauve and mulberry; smelled of flowers and honey and rain. It was like nothing he'd ever seen. It bewitched him that first time. It bewitched him now. His cock strained against the bindings of his clothes, it ached. His mouth watered.

"Will you merely stare?" She nibbled on her bottom lip, eyes alight with anticipation.

Seraphim hummed, lips twitching in amusement. He held her thighs, licked her navel, nuzzled his way down the soft hair atop her cunt. It was funny, he always thought a God's skin would be smooth and glabrous.

She whined when his tongue reached her folds, licking the sides of her slit, and jerked slightly once he reached the nub of her pleasure. He did as she instructed in times past, applying long, slow kisses that made her quiver and moan. Her hands found his hair and gripped tight enough to make him grunt. Nevertheless, he did not relent.

He drew her thighs up further, resting his forearms against the backs. He plunged his tongue into her cunt, fucking her there while his thumb ground circles into her clit. She panted and pleaded when he moved his mouth again to the nub, her clit, licking gently, suckling hard and harder, until she came undone, wriggling and keening, wheezing beneath him.

The Goddess tried to move away, push him back, but his hands were firm, and he kept her still as he licked her clean of her elation. Indeed, she was powerful, but like this, she was as impuissant as any other woman.

She sat up and pounced upon him, kissing him fervently.

"Remove your clothes." She ordered as she broke away.

The roughspun fabric was off in one fluid movement, flung behind him in moments. He rose above her, resting on his elbows. His hair, swept to his left, fell across the floor like a dark curtain.

"Are you going to move?" Her eyes were soft and clear, blue rushing water.

His cock grazed her inner thigh. "I'll move when I'm ready."

The Goddess glared. "You'll move when I say."

She grabbed his cock firmly, making him hiss. It jumped in her grasp.

"You'll move," she hitched her leg up, fastening onto his hip, and placed him at her opening, "when I say."

This was undoubtedly the hardest battle of his life. _And he was losing..._

"Alright." He breathed.

She was tight. Too _tight-_

He pushed in a quarter of the way. She was slick and hot and marvelous. Her eyes were shut. She bit her lips. He pulled back and thrust halfway. It was nearly too much. She felt fragile somehow, like his cock could tear her through. He exited again, suckled her breasts, and shoved himself completely inside.

Her head fell back against the furs. She grabbed his bicep hard as her lips trembled. It was such a lovely sight, and he kissed the side of her mouth before he could stop himself.

After long moments, the Goddess sighed, regaining composure. She held his face, gave the ghost of a smile.

"Move." The word more tender than her eyes.

He went slowly at first, testing the elasticity of her, rotating his pelvis in a manner similar to the ones she's done. He panted. His stomach coiled into tight knots. Before he knew it, he was pumping into her with ardent, furious strokes. Her breasts bounced up and down with his movements. She gasped and groaned, and it was nearly-

"More..." she moaned. She reached for his cheek, but he was swifter, grabbed her hand and held her palm above her, interweaving their fingers yet again. He licked her chin as he thrust, and thrust, and _thrust-_

She mimicked his motions, latching onto him. He wasn't sure where he ended, and she began. It was all too much. His strength, his plans, they would be all for nil. _He had to-_

She grabbed his back. Her nails pierced the flesh and sank in deep.

_He had to-_

She gasped. Neck exposed.

_He had to-_

She moaned. A smile upon her lips.

He was quick, _must always be quick_ , when he pulled from her cunt and flipped her over. There was a small, fleeting sound of shock from her. The Goddess moved to turn, but he held her hips, split the cheeks of her ass with his fingers, found the slit of her cunt, and drove into her roughly from behind. She cried out, her back arched and she bucked against him as he tried to keep her still.

The walls of her cunt were slick, but more constricted than before. He could feel himself pulsating within her. The thump of his heartbeat was loud in his ears.

Seraphim moved only when she relaxed- slowly, stretching, exploring, careful not to tear. She was tight, damnably tight. The grip of his fingers left angry red marks upon her hip, upon her ass.

Soon enough, he found a fine rhythm and once again she became lubricious and hot and slippery. Once again, she became divine.

He fucked her hard, as a dog does a bitch, and the sound of her ass slapping against him was loud, thick and wet in the tent. It competed with the howling of the winds against the fabric walls. It competed with her coos of pleasure, with his grunts and groans.

Her hair was in disarray. He grabbed a chunk of it, pulling her head back enough to see her eyes. They were closed, her face flushed, mouth open, brows drawn. It all shifted back and forth swiftly, in time with his thrusts.

"More. More- faster! _Move faster!_ " She roared.

He felt the beginnings of her ecstasy tug his cock. _Not yet_ , he thought. _Not now-_

Seraphim removed himself from her, picked her up, turned around, towards the entrance of his tent, and flipped her over yet again. He pushed her legs up, spread her open and bare to him as he knelt above her. She held his face, the left side, _always the left_ , and brushed his cheekbone with her thumb. His hair spilled over his shoulders, pooling upon the floor around them, mixing black with the furs.

His cock was still moist from her cunt as he stroked it once, twice, as he moved the tip into position. She hummed and smiled, turned her head to the side as he pushed in.

"Oh!" She moaned, sultry, guttural.

Her legs wound around his waist. She grabbed his neck, pulled him down roughly, bit his lower lip when she claimed his mouth.

His thrusts were harsh, untamed things. The smack of his thighs against her, her panting, his ragged, labored breaths, all contributed to his weakness. The coil in his loins was becoming unbearable. He could lose. He _needed_ her to come.

His right hand burrowed between them before he registered the action. Her clit was swollen, wet and silky as he rubbed her, coaxing her to jouissance. He moved his thumb, he rolled his hips, he licked her neck, nipping and sucking and biting gently until finally, _finally-_

The Goddess' cry was perhaps the sweetest sound he ever heard. Bright, amethyst light flashed with it. Her cunt contracted around him, squeezing his cock so hard, so wonderfully, that his right eye nearly blurred to sightlessness. It took his breath away.

Seraphim sat up, resting upon his legs. He needed to act fast, while her eyes were closed in bliss, while her smile was sensational in abandonment, while she went through each wave of euphoria-

He was quick, _must always be quick_ , as he reached for the dagger under his furs. The obsidian blade glimmered faintly in the firelight as he bent his arm back and moved to plunge it between her sweat dampened breasts.

The point was a hair's breadth away from her skin when her eyes snapped open.

In that moment, his arm glowed purple, his hand opened under her influence, and his weapon flew behind him. He floated, immobile.

Her eyes shone hot and violet in her fury. "How dare you strike a God?!"

Her dress brushed past him, her sandals found her feet, her braid was immaculate in the blink of an eye. She grew so large in stature that the top of her head nearly brushed the ceiling of his tent.

He'd his own fury. It intensified with this failure. "How dare you send me to kill a man protected by one?!" He was seething. It should have been easy to end her. He was going to throw her body over the cliff, into the sea. The perfect spot he chose. She ruined it. "Find someone else to do your dirty work. I've had enough!"

The Goddess pursed her lips and crossed her arms about her chest. She looked at him as though he were naught but an ant. "Zeus has entered the fray," her head tilted as she gazed down her nose at him, "but it doesn't change my plans." She began to shrink, though kept him bound and airborne. "Help me kill Zeus," she walked around him, circling, "and all that I've promised you will be yours." She touched his leg. "Including the location of your Uncle Acrisius."

"Where is he?" He growled. She was an evil bitch.

She returned him to the ground, brushed his shoulder, caressed his cheek, thumb rubbing against the scar. His weakness ruined his opportunity. _Damn her. Malàka._

"First, I need you to find the Cauldron of Darkness." Her thumb moved to his bottom lip. "Too many eyes are fixed on me. Do that," she smirked, "and the crown of the world will be yours."


	3. Onward, To Olympus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a character study, this one.

When the Goddess Hera stepped into the darkness, the breeze came with her. The Temple of the Oneiri was as she'd left it. Statues of night pillared the room before her, encircling the tholos completely. As she moved, stars twinkled and flickered above her. The waters of Lethe fell from fountains along the walls, dripping from the celestial sky, and pooled, creating the aqueous floor. The sanctum shifted with her every step, altering as the mind does in a dream.

She stopped in the middle of the chamber. The Goddess knew they watched her, behind the statues and the columns. She could feel their fluttering gazes upon her from the vast black- green just beyond her vision.

"I have come for Phantasos." Shadows moved above her, beside her, below her, and in the next moment, he appeared from the darkness, smiling like a tragedy.

"How might I serve you, my queen?" His voice, an admixture of three: a deep, full baritone, a rich youthful tenor, and a rattling old wheeze, was alight with mischief.

Phantasos was perhaps her favorite of the Oneiri. "I require you to visit one under my influence. He has begun to lack faith. You will grant him a vision of the future. Persuade him to see the error of his ways."

He circled her, misting through the air. "The queen can easily find another champion. Why humor the unfaithful?"

Although Hera liked the God when it suited her, she would not be questioned. Her eyes, her hands, charged with her power.

"My reasons are my own. Leave at once. See that he understands what it means to doubt me."

The white mask of Phantasos' face tilted slightly. The black holes of his gaze bore into her glare. He stood tall before her, stepped back, and bowed.

"Forgive my candor. If this is your wish, my queen, it shall be done." His form turned to smoke and drifted out the entrance of the temple. She left Olympus and returned to the Underworld. It was a short ride from the Shore of Lost Souls to her temporary accommodation. Kharon, the appallingly filthy ferryman, remained as silent as the grave. It allowed her time to reflect.

 _This had to stop_. She was being questioned, challenged, by everyone it seemed. _It was because of Zeus. His disgusting appetites have made it so the respect we’ve once held has begun to wane._ In time enough things shall be different. _In time enough there will once again be order._

As ever, Kharon chose the main channel, the River Styx, for their route. From her seat in the boat, she'd a view of all the realm before her. The Underworld was a vast dimension of light and darkness. On one side, the volcanic Mountain of the Damned stood a colossal presence of red magma and black rock; its crater venting an atmosphere of ash and fumes, propelling boulders of fire to fly through the sky in its ceaseless eruption. It reminded her of the demon.

Hera couldn't believe she allowed that boy the opportunity to strike her. Just thinking about it made her feel as humiliated as she'd been when she nursed that seemingly helpless cuckoo and fed into her brother's trickery. She had to marry him to hide her shame. It still made her angry, after all this time. And yet, she fell in love with him, as he said she would, but now-

Now she wanted him to suffer. He was a fool and a liar. He satisfied each of his carnal desires. It was shameful. Her brother behaved as a mortal would, instead of the King of the Heavens. He was a disgrace and his actions reflected upon herself. In the eyes of their subjects, what did that make her?

The boat shifted, prompting her to grasp the smooth wood of the bench she sat upon. They rowed past the summer green Asphodel Meadows and through the dusty haze of the Mourning Fields. The river cut through the golden plains of Elysium until the lands stopped, giving way to the Isles of the Blessed, shining and crisp in its perpetual springtide. Hera resided on the largest island, her palace more lavish than even that of her brother and his little wife.

It made her appear weak, and that would not do. The balance of power was delicate in Olympus. Her brother sired bastards enough and nearly everyone believed they held a claim for her throne. _I should have wed Hades that time he asked. He wouldn't have had bastards for me to deal with. He would have been true._ She wouldn't be in this mess.

Again, her mind went to the demon. Hera touched her chest where that black blade would have pierced, just above her heart. Weak. Foolish. Just like her brother. No one will know of this blunder, no one at all, the Goddess was sure of that. And _him_ -

She had such plans for his penance. The hubristic, obdurate fool of a boy that he was. He'll know what a grievous mistake he's made. He'll learn to his dismay.

At last they reached her isle, the boat swayed beside the pier as it stopped. She climbed onto the wood of the jetty and took no care to look back at the ferryman. Where the walkway ended, her son stood with a palanquin and four centaurs, all young and muscular. They'd the battle scars of war along their bare chests, pale against the colors of their skin. The boy was marked in nearly the same ways. She traced each blemish of his flesh with her forefinger. He shuddered that first time, not breathing at all. The memory tugged her lips into a grin, albeit a small one.

"Mother," her fine son said in greeting.

"Ares." She smiled and touched his cheek, thumb brushing the prickly stubble. "I trust you've completed what I've asked of you."

"Yes," he held the curtain of the litter to one side as she climbed in, him following. She relaxed into the cushions and he sat opposite her. Only after the centaurs lifted their litter and began their strides to her palace, did she voice her plan.

Golden bowls of blood red pomegranate seeds, purple grapes, and honied figs rested upon the carpeted floor. Ares poured wine into two goblets, handing his mother the first.

"Your father has tasked Hermes with following me. He thinks I am unaware of his presence, that the cap conceals him completely." She laughed and sipped some of the wine. "He's always been an injudicious boy and far more confident than he has any right to be."

Her son drank a gulp and smirked. "What are you planning?"

"Let your father's bastard follow me if he wishes. He has the vambrace that activates the cauldron. I've business to attend in Melidoni. In three days’ time, you will meet me there and we shall release him from this onus your father has so graciously bestowed upon him." She bit into one of the honey figs. The skin was feather soft and smooth. The flesh was sweet and succulent. Juice ran down her chin in a most undignified manner.

"If that is your will, Mother," he fingered the hilt of his war hammer, one side of his mouth curling, "it shall be done."

O.o.O

Seraphim scaled the walls of the bath house without breaking a sweat. His feet were silent as he ran along the roof, enveloped by the light of the moon. As he approached the curving edge, Seraphim saw him there, at the far end of the pool, head resting against ivory tile, eyes close, lounging in ignorance, weak in his hedonism.

It disgusted him. Gods were more like men than he ever knew. Seraphim moved quickly, _must always be quick_. With a running start, he jumped from the roof and threw his bident at the left arm of the relaxing God, pinning him to the ground.

The other arm became encased by the ivory floor, trapping him effectively. Seraphim stood above him, he drew his sword swiftly, and plunged it deep into the God's throat. The man's eyes bulged as he gurgled, trying to break free. The fear in his eyes was human. The shock there, absolute. With one great swing of his arms, the sword sliced cleanly through the God's neck. The head rolled to the right, taking two complete turns before stopping.

In that moment, he couldn't seem to get enough air. His heartbeat was a drum in his ears. _I just killed a God. The King of Gods._ It was as nothing he's experienced before. No kill had given him such satisfaction. His blood raced within him. With this death, he could do anything. His cock twitched at the prospect. _Olympus was but the beginning_.

From the shadows, the Goddess moved into the light. She stood with him before the corpse of her dead husband, a smile upon her lips.

"Now, they'll all kneel before you." She was larger than him, but just so, the height of a God. "How does it feel?" The Goddess' hands framed his face, she peered down into his eyes. "Good." She purred, brushing her thumb against his lower lip, bending slightly so her mouth was near his own, breath puffing upon his lips. "Doesn't it..."

 _Yes_ , he thought.

The kiss was hard, though her lips velvety soft. She smiled wickedly, breaking away, held his gaze and sank before him, rested upon her knees.

"What are you-"

"Hush." Her voice sharp. Her hands moved quickly, pushing the straps and fabric of his clothing aside until-

His cock was free to the night and the moonlight. The Goddess held him firmly, stroking him as he did himself, and in moments, he was hard and throbbing in her palm.

"All I promised," as she kissed the head, he couldn't stifle his groan, "and more."

The Goddess took the tip of him into her wonderful mouth and all thought left him. Her palm circled the base of the shaft and she took more of him in while she stroked the hilt. She ran her tongue against the underside of his cock, one of her palms fondled his balls, and he thought he might come right there. She worked him more, his fingers clumping in her hair as her head bobbed back and forth.

The other hand reached around and grabbed his ass roughly. There was no pain, there may have been pain, he didn't know. Seraphim thrust into her, rolling his hips, pace quickening with each maddeningly tight suck. His head rolled back, much like that dead God's had. On and on she went, his moans, the wet sounds filling the air, until his stomach clenched, and he came into her eager mouth. She swallowed all of him, milked him dry, while he gave another pump or two.

The Goddess pulled back, gazed up at him, and smiled. Her lips were glossy with his seed, a line of it ran to her chin. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. Seraphim's right palm caressed the side of her face, the contrast of his black hand stark against her pale skin. It was lovely.

He wanted to sit beside her, to lick her cunt until she cried tears and begged him to fuck her with his cock, but he didn't move, and she didn't rise.

Her smile brightened to a beam and her mouth moved to speak, moved without sound. _What is happening?_

Her form, everything before him began to shift and puff and vanish. He lifted his hand from her face, held it up to his eyes, and that too disintegrated-

The world turned to smoke and there was only darkness. _No_ , his mind screamed. _No!_

Seraphim blinked until the shapes and colors of his tent took meaning. _A dream. It was only a dream,_ he thought bitterly.

He sensed a presence not his own and sprang forward. Zeus, the God he killed, stood before him, his back turned.

"The dreams of the Oneiri cannot be trusted." He didn't sound how Seraphim thought he would. "And neither can the Goddess who sent them."

Without thought, he summoned his bident, and launched it at the small of Zeus' back, all his power behind the throw. It did little, for the God caught the spear with phosphorescent blue light, as if it were nothing.

"Hera's been filling your head with false confidence," he willed it around him, staked it to the ground by Seraphim's war table, "... and lies."

_The bident did nothing. He deflected it without even looking. Damn him._

The God paced the tent as he spoke. "She blames me for what happened to you but she's only half right. Yes, I thought you would be better off at the palace. But that was a mistake. I underestimated your uncle's greed." He turned and looked at him directly, empathetically, as though it changed things. "For that I'm sorry. That's why I always tried to help you."

His palm splayed before him, flashing golden rays of memory. Seraphim saw himself as an infant in his mother's arms; the bear, his brothers' mother; and the Goddess, on a grand carving balcony, face tense, watching them, turning away-

"When you were hungry," he went on, "I was the one who fed you."

He suckled at the bear's teat alongside his brothers, suckled and lived.

"When Acrisius' sons were going to kill you," that day, himself- a bloody boy on the floor, sliced, being kicked, crumpled in defeat, awaiting death, "I was the one who saved you." The bear that ripped them apart.

"You think your mother's death was your fault," it was his fault- his entirely; his hand, his blade, his wrath, "but it wasn't. It was Hera's."

The balcony, the Goddess, a gust of wind, and a himation, carried by the breeze-

"I tried to help your mother, but Hera interfered-"

-carried all the way to a wooden hut. His men. The beast with three heads.

"-and she led you to her."

He broke that door down with a swing of his fist. It was nothing. Nothing at all in the moment.

"She hated your mother and loved the idea of being cut down by her own son."

Her terror, her pleads, they were nothing to him. Nothing at all.

Zeus looked at him with scorn, as though he were naught but mud under his precious sandals.

"She manipulated you." The God's eyes were confirmation enough, he knew of the... _arrangement_ Seraphim had with his wife. "And has been deceiving you ever since."

Seraphim wasn't afraid of him. He feared nothing.

He glared at the God, snarling. "And why should I trust you?"

Zeus' eyes narrowed and Seraphim was certain he saw the same look in the Goddess' glare before. He heard a tale or two of them being related. She's his sister if he remembers properly.

"Here." He flicked a coin and Seraphim caught the metal without thought. "Hera lords her promises over you so you will do her bidding. I offer it freely, so that justice can be served."

A hooked mountain was carved into the center of the coin. Seraphim frowned, looked up from his palm. "What is this?"

"It's where you will find your vengeance." The God's eyes were gold then white, his whole being, and with a blink of his eyes, disappeared.

The coin was small, maybe the size of his thumb, but grew heavier the longer he looked at it. His blood rushed through his ears. His heart beat loud and louder until it was all he heard, until his mind brought forth his wails as an infant; the vision of being tossed over a cliff, the bastard smirking; his mother being chased through the woods carrying him, clutching him to her chest as she searched for shelter; his sons smacking her, that day, the kicks, his brothers, her eyes, _No! Go! Run!_ , he ran to her, he reached for her, her eyes, her tears, her neck and the blood- all that blood, it should have been impossible to come from such a small woman, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the blood and her face, eyes wide and vacant in death-

It was too much, all too much. All he saw was red. All he knew was rage. He was airborne, on his chimera, flying over the sea, when finally, he roared.

Seraphim was still covered in blood when he arrived in Melidoni. He chose the grandest palace of the city for his home. It sat upon a sloping hillside, miles from the polis, with unobscured views of the sea. Vineyards and wheat fields and pomegranate orchards stretched for acres after the gardens, stopping at the tree line of the forest.

_Mother would have liked this place._

When he landed in the grand courtyard, between the water fountains of some Goddesses, he doesn't know which ones, he didn't ask before he killed the man who lived there, his head servant, Acacia, an old woman, rushed to meet him.

"My king," she said bowing. "Gods be praised you returned to us unharmed."

He frowned, exhaling roughly through his nose. "Give no praise to those wretched creatures. Here-," he held his bident out for her grasp, "have this cleaned."

"At once." She passed it along to the young woman who followed her about, her daughter. "Would it please you to take a meal?"

He reached up and rubbed his chimera's fur, scratched behind the beast's ear, and received a grateful purr. "It would. Slaughter a lamb. I'll have it roasted with olives and the bread you make."

"Yes, my king."

"Also, have a bath drawn for me, and send my clothes to be washed."

"Of course, my king. Will that be all?"

"For now," he frowned, "as you were."

She bowed again and left. The woman elected to stay in the guise of a mortal. Acacia dismissed the hardened gray skin and the fine sight of crimson eyes, though she ate the Giant's flesh, same as everyone else. She chose to appear weak. It didn't make much sense to him.

He caught sight of servant boys tending his chimera while he walked to the bath house. It was a large, round building with columns and walls covered with vines. The pool steamed when he entered, as he disrobed. It was large enough for twelve people at least, and when he sank into the water, it was so warm that it nearly scalded his skin. He moved down the pool until the waterline sat between his mouth and nose.

His tense muscles relaxed, his head cleared, and for the first time in days, he had time to think.

Killing Acrisius was his sole purpose for twelve years. Now he was dead and some small part of him didn't know how to feel. The deed was lovely. It was a hunger sated with blood and wails of pain. He avenged her, he avenged himself, he avenged them all, but then-

Things shifted. He thought of the mother he slew, was tricked into slaying, _It's not me I'm praying for_ , and the joy he felt from killing Acrisius turned to soot in his mouth.

Killing Acrisius didn't bring his mother back, or his brothers, or his life. It didn't make him strong, his hate did, but what use was there to hate a dead man? He could hate himself. He killed his mother after all. _He killed his mother._

Seraphim cried in that cave. Not since he was a boy had he allowed himself to do such. He'd a sadness, a fatigue, that he hasn't felt since-

_Deceiving you._

He was fool enough to believe that vile woman. He was fool enough to play into her plans. He was a pawn. That angered him more so than the deception. _How dare she..._

_Filling your head with false confidence._

He lacked the ability to kill a God. Zeus stopping his bident assured him of that. _I must become stronger. Somehow. Then I'll kill them. I'll kill them all._

_She always hated your mother._

His chest was hollow. His heart was broken. _Maybe I am a demon, as they say. I killed my own mother._

_It's not me I'm praying for._

His rage blinded him. It made him weak. It made him-

Seraphim glared at her as she fluttered into his bath house, coming through the skylight of the ceiling. The Goddess floated above him. She was small this time. He was already naked. He knew what she wanted.

"You're interrupting my bath." He moved to grab the chunk of soap from its floating wooden basket, when his arm froze.

"One day you'll learn."

He struggled against the pressure of her power to no avail. "Release me!"

Her laughter filled the room. "As you wish. Tell me, have you cleaned your hair?"

He turned and snarled. "What do you want?"

"Coyness does not become us, child." The silks of her clothes shifted and floated away from her, moving to rest upon one of the chairs near the door. Her sandals followed. In the air, she was bare and glowing and splendid. "Have you thought of me lately?"

Seraphim closed his open mouth, forced his eyes from her breasts. "Keep your devils out of my dreams."

"So you have dreamed of me. Prithee, was it just as satisfying as when you're inside me?" She smirked, lowering herself, drawing nearer to him. "Was it just as _good?_ "

Her calves were in the water. Her cunt was before his face. He could smell her arousal. It made his own spike. A quick glance down and he could see his cock curving, hardening. _Damn her._

He reached forth, grasped her thigh, before she immobilized him.

"Control yourself, child. During our last encounter, you insulted a God. You must atone for the slight."

He glowered. "You're a damnable woman."

The Goddess glared and forced him back against the edge of the pool, near the ledge under the water that acts as a seat. He sat there with his arms up, draping along the edge.

"Release me!"

"Mind. Your. Tongue. Or you shall know where the damned reside."

The silent stalemate lasted until she smirked.

Seraphim sighed. His gaze racked across her form, stopped at her cunt. "What penance shall I serve?"

Her smirk reached her eyes. Again, the Goddess moved, floated within his reach, her cunt just above him, so close he could nearly touch it-

Her hold on him laxed enough for him to lean into her, his nose, his lips burying in the hair there.

"The cauldron," the last of the word succumbing to a moan, "I've told you already. Get- the cauldron."

She lowered herself further and allowed him to grip her thighs, holding her up. She rubbed her cunt against his face as he licked and kiss and sucked and worried. He thrust two fingers into her warm, tight walls and she grabbed a fist of his white hair. While he moved the digits, she moaned and panted. She didn't weaken him yet, so when his nails pierced her flesh, she cried out. It mixed with her final cry of pleasure, just before her nectar flooded his tongue.

With her thighs on his shoulders, her feet brushing his back in the water, breasts rubbing his nose, the Goddess leaned over him, held his head gently, and kissed his scalp. It was a tender thing.

Seraphim lifted her and placed her in the pool beside him. She held his face, smiling softly. Her breasts bobbed, floating upon the waterline in their buoyancy.

"What do you wish for most?"

_... cannot be trusted... the Goddess who sent them..._

He was no fool. To this woman he was but a means to an end. Nothing more. And in time enough he was going to kill her, whenever the opportunity presented itself-

"Revenge."

She touched his chest. "Then you shall have it." The world muted. He lifted his arm and saw one brown palm. "But first, I shall have you."

The Goddess pushed him back against the ledge, sat astride his lap, and claimed his mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet. She tasted of pomegranates.

He broke the dance and moved lower, kissing her neck, holding her back slightly as he sucked her nipples. She sighed and ran her hands through his dark hair.

He stood, lifted them up, and turned, moving to the edge of the pool, when she stopped him. "Don't you dare."

"What?" Only then did he see the anger in her face.

"Don't you dare put me down."

He failed to kill her last time, and yet, here she was again. It was too humorous. He smiled. "What? You don't trust me?"

"I trust-," she groaned. He held her up, held her open, and rubbed his cock along her slit before sliding inside. She gripped his shoulders hard as he moved her back and forth, fucking her in the air.

The Goddess didn't take her eyes from him. She struggled with it. "Mo-move back... sit, sit down."

He groaned and sat upon the ledge. Her arms wrapped around his neck, she leaned her forehead, her nose onto his own, and panted against his lips. Grinding her pelvis into his, Seraphim held her hips as he thrust upward.

He went too quickly, he never wanted to be quick with this, and spent himself into her before she came.

_Damn._

She didn't seem to mind. It was strange. The Goddess kissed his cheek, above the scar, a feather light brush of her lips. She curled her fingers around strands of his hair as he held her flush against his chest.

"Zeus visited you. You killed Acrisius I've heard. How did it feel?" She brushed her mouth against his ear. "Good?" She whispered. "More satisfying than ever you imagined? The pleasure you received then will multiply one hundred-fold with Zeus' death."

He copied her, moving his own lips to her ear. "And what degree of fulfillment will you gain from it?"

_She always hated your mother._

Seraphim leaned away to look in her eyes. "All this trouble, is it merely for his infidelity? Or is there something more?" _That couldn't be it. The woman was mad, but that would be irrational, excessive madness, would it not?_ "Why do you want him dead?"

She glared; the tenderness gone. "My reasons are my own."

"Your reasons are mine, if it is your wish to continue this arrangement." 

Her eyes raged, glowing purple. "Mind yourself, child."

"He told me other things, about you, about my mother." Seraphim grabbed her chin, held it roughly, and her jaw clenched. "You hated her. You tried to kill us. He told me one thing; you tell me another. Who am I to believe?"

The Goddess sighed and stared at him for a long while before speaking. In calming tones, she proceeded. "Why should I lie?" Her hands framed his face again, brushed the scar. "He's trying to turn you against me. Don't fall for his tricks. They're not nearly as clever as he thinks they are. You can see through them. That's why I chose you, wise boy."

"Once you've finished,” she went on, “retrieve the cauldron. There is an isle between Lemnos and Skyros that is shaped quite like a horseshoe. One plethron to its north, lies the chamber of Talos. Its entrance is upon the ocean floor. You had better hope you're a decent swimmer. The cauldron should be upon a plinth, last I checked it was."

"And I suppose Talos will not permit me to simply walk to this plinth and take it."

"No." She tilted her head. "Should he wake, use the sword. Slice through his ankles."

"Alright." His voice was returning to normal. She'll leave him soon.

"You should know, my husband's bastard is making his way to the Giant's remains that are in the caverns near here."

"What?" _Zeus' bastard_. _His brother_.

"Their number is small, maybe one score, maybe less. Your army will move the carcass and eliminate the lot of them without hassle. Leave the men to the task. Focus on the cauldron. It is of greater import." She nuzzled his cheek. "Will you do that?"

He sighed. "Yes."

She smiled small, eyes soft. The Goddess kissed him sweetly before rising from his embrace.

"I'll meet you near the island soon." He watched her float and dress. "Do not fail me." She turned back into a raven and flew through the skylight.

His brother was in route to the cavern. This could be his chance-

Seraphim quickly washed himself, dressed, and mounted his chimera. There was no time to lose.

The cavern under the earth was hot as always. His army watched from above, upon mountainous formations of stalagmite, as the man- _his brother_ \- moved into the clearing, searching for something he would not find. Seraphim slid from his chimera and spoke once his presence was known.

"It looks like my God is more clever than yours."

Each member of the group was postured and prepared to fight. As he looked down, stared at his face on the man below them, he knew it need not come to that. This meeting would go differently. His descent to the ground was swift. As he approached, the group rose their weapons.

"You moved the giant remains." He seemed confused.

He was such a small man, this twin of his. Seraphim set his bident down, staking the end into the red earth.

_She manipulated you._

_He's trying to turn you against me._

_And has been deceiving you ever since._

_Why should I lie?_

His skin crawled with fury. _I've been a fucking catspaw for too long_.

"I'm tired of being a pawn. Aren't you brother? Why should they rule over us?" _Mind yourself, child_. "They're more flawed than we are." _My reasons are my own. I underestimated your uncle's greed_. "Look at what they've done to us. They've ruined our lives. Our mother is dead because of them!" _It's not me I'm praying for_. "Don't you want to avenge her death?" The man looked to the ground, expression pensive. "Join me, brother." Seraphim took steps toward him. He had to understand. They were of the same blood. They were of the same face. "We can have our vengeance and end the reign of the Gods." They even had the same scar, cutting across the brow of their left eye. _He had to understand._

His brother narrowed his eyes. "So you can rule?"

"So that what happened to us, never happens again." _No! Go! Run! It's not me I'm praying for_. "This..," he sighed, "is the only way."

"No, it's not." His bright blue eyes, so unlike his own, were empathic. "Zeus can undo what’s been done to you. He can convert you back."

 _Zeus_. He rejected his offer for fucking Zeus and his lies. Seraphim scoffed. "For the sake of our mother, I will ask you one last time. Join me, or you leave me no choice." He grabbed the hilt of his sword. "You are either with me or against me."

"If that is what the choice must be," he returned Seraphim's glare, "I'm against you."

 _The idiot_. He drew his blade and rushed for him. The man was fast, shot three arrows at his palm, his wrist, before he had chance to evade. His sword flew behind him, landing deep into the earth.

With the first blood drawn, his blood, men from both sides joined the battle. His army rained down from atop their perch, while his twin's companions fired arrows and flaming skins of wine.

Seraphim ducked and dodged the assault, running for his weapon, to his chimera. He'll make him regret the refusal.

In the air, he saw his men tear their enemies apart with ease. His twin was quick enough to see the disadvantage and called for a retreat.

"Let's go!" His voice chimed in Seraphim's ears. "Run!"

 _You won't get away._ The Archon felled man after man as she sprinted for the mouth of the cave. He hurled his bident at her but struck two black armored Thebans instead, slicing their bodies through at the waist, blood and entrails flying about. Again he threw, for his twin this time, and caught the large warrior woman with the leopard skin himation.

 _Fuck! Fuck! **Fuck**_ -

He roared in anger as he missed. His twin reached the entrance, turned swiftly, and released an arrow, only missing his face by a finger's width.

Seraphim aimed, threw, and cut the man behind his twin in half. When his bident lodged in the volcanic rock at the base of the cave's mouth, an angry red cracked the walls, traveling along the ceiling, until it reached the stalactites. The cavern rumbled, rocks fell large and larger until his army, his chimera, and himself were buried beneath.

He didn't know how long he was down there, but the whimpers of his chimera were distressing.

"Hold on," he called out, "I'm coming."

The boulders would only move in inching increments. He pushed, used all his strength, and the accursed rock barely shifted. Seraphim grunted and wriggled until the earth around him glowed purple and lifted from him all at once.

Her eyes flared violet fury. She floated above him, the boulders that crushed him surrounding her. It was a threat.

"What are you doing?"

He kept silent. Seraphim knew enough of this woman to know that she'd crush him to death in a fit of rage.

"Do as I asked, or I won't ask again." Her nose rose higher into the air. She was a haughty, imperious bitch.

"Is that clear?"

He pursed his lips and tried not to glare. "I'll leave at once."

"You had better."

His chimera was under enough rubble to crush a lesser creature. When Seraphim threw the boulders from him, he assessed the leonine animal.

"You're hale and hearty, you big faker." His wings were fine. His face was unscathed. "Let's go."

He summoned his bident and flew out the cave.

O.o.O

Her shadow was five paces behind her as she exited the cavern and stepped onto the beach. _The poor dear thinks I don't know he's there._

A few more steps and-

She flurried sand around his body, exposing his position. Hermes was more preoccupied with clearing his vision than paying attention to his surroundings. Her fine son jumped from his vantage point- a large boulder, hammer in hand, and struck the bastard down.

Hermes whimpered like the child he was, falling to the floor while her son struck his back with more blows. Her smile was bright as she willed the vambrace from Hermes' arm and attached it to her own.

She heard the whicker of Apollo's horses from above them. Airborne, he cast balls of flame upon her son from his chariot, aiding his fellow bastard enough to allow the messenger God an escape, battered and bruised though he was. The boy was a blur of blue and pink as he ran.

_He's going to warn his father, but I'll reach him first._

She watched Ares cut through the fire of Apollo's assault and give chase. Their fight moved to the sky. Ares struck Apollo from his chariot, making him fall through the air, crater to the earth, and delivered a devastating blow to his blonde head, knocking him unconscious.

They weren't far from the beach, so it was but a short walk to the cliffside thereafter. He flung Apollo into the sea as though he were nothing; and with that, Hera didn't know if she'd ever been more proud of her son than in that moment.

She joined him by the bluff, both looking into the fathoms. "Are you sure your pet will defeat Talos?"

_My sweet son._

Her smile lit her face. "Should he fail, you can obtain it I am certain."

"Mother, is this path truly the wisest? What if-,"

She sighed, frowning. "Do not tell me you've been humoring your uncle."

Her son glared at her incredulity. "My loyalties are yours. Always." Hera touched his cheek, brushed her thumb against his stubble. His wary face met her own. "What if you cannot control them?"

"You weren't there when we faced them. You weren't there for the Titans. All you know are the stories. I know what I'm doing. Never forget that. With the cauldron, all the power will be mine. Do not fret, my dear child, the war is ours."

He placed his hand over her own on his cheek. "The war is won."

o.O.o

The demon emerged from the water with a large splash. He panted hard as he leaned upon the rocky shore, cradling the cauldron. She didn't give him a chance to react. With her power, the Goddess Hera drew the object into the air, just beneath her palm.

_Finally. Finally I have you._

The lines along the vambrace lit pale blue as it activated. The cauldron shone gold under her touch. She could feel the power of the souls trapped within, barely contained, begging her for release.

When she broke the seal, the bright red lights of their essence shot into the sky and spirited to each host.

 _Finally,_ she thought _. Finally I have him._

O.o.O

The Gods came to the island in droves. Their faces pinched, noses in the air. They regarded him as if he were week old fish. It all left his mouth tasting of bile.

Seraphim stood beside his chimera, next to a pine tree, his feet crushing the needles and grass beneath him. He watched her from the behind the congregation of Gods as they piled along the cliffside, waiting for their queen to address the creatures. There was a silence, some strange exchange he was not privy to, and then she flew into the air, glowing purple and sumptuous.

Cauldron in hand, she floated high above the sea and the setting sun, above the Giants, above them all.

"Giants of the deep," her voice carried like that of a war commander, "hear me!"

One of the Giants, a squat rodent looking one, moved to attack. He rolled into a magnificent, furious ball. The Goddess did not take kindly to it. His red essence flew from his body and returned to the cauldron.

The remaining Giants startled at that. Another one, a sea monster of sorts, with huge breasts, wriggled toward the Goddess. She opened her mouth, to strike no doubt, but the Goddess was swifter. She claimed her soul as well.

The Giants halted, shocked, angered. Their leader, a great horned creature with snakes connected to his shoulders, stepped before the group, spread his arms out, prompting them to cease their resistance.

"I thought you'd see it my way." Seraphim could hear the smirk in her voice. With a flick of her wrist, the Goddess restored the souls of the two dead Giants.

The cauldron called to him, just as the corpse had in that cave, just as his bident had when he was overcome by enemies. _I must obtain that power._

"Help me kill Zeus... and I'll make the sea yours again."

The leader spoke in a gnarled, ancient voice that sounded as fathomless as the sea. Seraphim couldn't decipher a word.

"He enticed your brethren to betray you, and in turn betrayed them." She was a conniving woman. "That is something I will not do."

The leader spoke again, longer this time, and the Gods before Seraphim gasped. A murmur spread through the crowd. The words _crazy_ and _madness_ were voiced with increasing frequency.

She was tense, he could tell, even from his place upon the ground below her. "If that is what you seek, then it shall be yours, but I warn you, do not take my kindness for weakness."

Two words came from the leader.

"It is settled. Move now. Onward, to Olympus!"


	4. The Lull

The mountain covered the valley in darkness. It stood high, stretched far into the clouds, and seemed impregnable. The sheer magnitude of it gave Seraphim pause. He surveyed the area upon the back of his chimera. As the night air ran crisp fingers through his hair, across his face, he'd a nagging thought.

_We may lose._

Their opponents held the high ground. The highest ground. It was their home his army was invading. Another disadvantage. The Goddess assured him of their numbers- _low, most of the population followed me when I left_ \- but that could have very well been false.

_Deceiving you._

He knew to take any information she gave with a pound of salt. He could be marching his men atop a mountain of death. And yet, she appeared so confident. And moreover, she seemed a woman to only battle when certain of victory. It was quite conflicting.

His chimera shifted east, gliding around the ranges, sweeping past the peaks. In moments, Seraphim had a view of the moon; a white, shining sickle waning to darkness. The new moon would show its face with the next dusk or two, and as he passed forests and lakes and rivers, all black and barely visible, he wondered if he would see it.

_Of course I will, and many more after._

He'd come too far to die now, there was much to be done, and no Goddess would ruin his plans.

He pulled a tuft of the animal's fur, near the neck, to get his attention. "Return to the camp. We've seen enough."

He growled and doubled back.

In no time at all, they were above his great host. He looked at the rows of campfires beneath him but saw only a blur of tents as they flew past. The soldiers were shifting dots in the faint light.

_How many of you will die in this war?_

Ten thousand men and women would make the ascent as one come dawn. Each was fitted with breast plate, helmet, and greaves; armed with shields that interlocked, and spears long enough to penetrate front lines through any phalanx.

It should suffice. They should win. He should-

The uncertainty of the coming days was what annoyed him most. _The damn woman_. She had him caught between the devil and the deep blue sea; and the only way out was forward, through her schemes and madness.

 _I need that cauldron_. With it, he could even the scales of power. _I could finally break free of her wretched grasp._

They touched down in the center of the camp and he cursed as he jumped to the ground. Alexios was easy enough to find.

"My king." The strategos bowed and awaited his command.

"Prepare the men to march at first light. A three-day climb awaits us."

Alexios nodded. "At once."

Seraphim left him there, went to his tent. The brazier crackled orange and gold in its corner. There was meat and mead upon his war table, near the scrolls of strategy and tactics he and his strategoi developed.

They were good plans, though the question remained: are they good enough to win? He would find out in a few days.

He stood there, eating, drinking, planning, until the fire fizzled to red embers.

O.o.O

The demon did not feign sleep when she entered the pavilion. He was alert, leaning over his war table, brows drawn, face pensive, plotting some new attack. He didn't raise his eyes to acknowledge her presence, and the sheer disregard caused her anger to spark. The Goddess Hera would not tolerate being ignored. With her power buzzing bright, she held him in the air, away from his plans.

"You're an insolent child."

The demon grunted and snarled as he tried to move. "Release me."

"Insolent and pompous." She brought him forth and forced him to his knees. "You will learn your place, boy."

He fought her hold for nay but a moment before submitting. His dramatics reminded Hera of her brother.

"What do you want?" He wouldn't meet her eye.

"Well, to start," she allowed him to stand, "it would please me if you stood tall. Contrary to what you may think," she walked forward, held his gray cheek as he glared down at her, "I am here to reward you."

"Reward?" He scoffed, stepping back. "How could you possibly think-,"

Hera matched his glare with her own. "Do not interrupt me," she warned, "for your loyalty, for retrieving the cauldron," she moved in close, ran one hand up his ombré arm, "for your army, I bring you this gift."

She offered him the goblet she held.

"What gift?" The demon grabbed the cup. "What is this?"

"Always suspicious." She crossed her arms about her chest.

He set his mouth into a straight line. "Always."

The Goddess rolled her eyes, reignited his all but dead fire, and lifted the white fabric from the lip of the cup in one fluid motion.

"Eat."

The demon's brow furrowed. He gaped in slight confusion. "Figs?"

"-in honey." She confirmed. "Eat them all and wash it down with your wine."

"What- what is this? What do you want?" His crimson gaze cut.

"I told you," she pushed his chest, making him lean against the table, "a gift."

He plucked one from the cup and examined it closely. His skepticism irritated her.

"Eat the fruit." She ordered.

Frowning, he ate it in one bite, then another, and another, until her gift was gone. She cast the goblet aside with her power and walked to his bedding while he drank his mead.

"Are you certain of their numbers?" He was at the table again, moving small wooden statues along a makeshift map. "If they attack here-," the demon pointed to a weak spot near the sea, "they'll overtake us."

Hera exhaled through her nose. "What have I told you of questioning me?"

"This question holds import," he glanced her way, "how many? I'm sending my army to die at your behest. I will not have their lives taken in vain."

One deep breath, two, and Hera calmed herself. "You need not concern yourself with such thoughts." She was by his side in an instant, placed her hand upon his chest, above his heart, held his face as he looked at her. "The war is won. You picked the right side. Forget your maps and come with me to your bed."

"How many?"

She glared. "Half our strength. Fate is in our hands." It was easy to pull him away then. She tugged him to the furs and sat upon his lap. "Tell me, what do you wish for most?"

A quirk of his lips. "Revenge."

The Goddess smiled. "Then you shall have it," she brushed his lip with her thumb and purified him, "but first, I shall have you."

She kissed him, ran her tongue across flattened teeth, and relished the feel of his calloused hands grabbing her back. Her own hands moved across his brown shoulders, up his thick neck, became buried in his bound hair.

The demon smelled of cypress needles and exertion and of the wind. He didn't bathe this day, had washed the day prior, but that mattered little. She wanted him now.

Hera rose from his embrace and willed her gown away. Her sandals followed, both landing upon a chair at his table. He too was naked by the time she finished.

"Now, for your reward."

"It wasn't the figs?" His hands ran up and down her legs.

"You've done well in obtaining the cauldron." She kissed him quick. "Lay back."

He did so reluctantly, as he did all things with her, and with her power, Hera bound his arms to his sides.

"What are you doing?"

She smirked, sat astride his waist as she watched him there, helpless, at her disposal.

"Hush."

The Goddess drank him visually and did not know where to begin. Though thoughts of the coming battle kindled a sense of exhilaration within her, they also left her strangely hollow, unfulfilled. She needed a release, needed him inside her.

"Release me!" He barked.

She needed him _now_ , the wriggling of his body against her thighs told her as much, but she hesitated to indulge fully. He was such a pretty creature, even with the puckered skin of long healed wounds, even without the eye. She liked him under her. She liked him like this.

Hera smiled, shook her head. "No." 

The demon's lips parted but she was faster, claimed his mouth before he could respond. She lingered in their dance long enough for her nipples to grow sensitive.

Hera worked her way down his body, stopping near the soft hair of his navel, then back up, going slower, giving more attention to areas that made him moan. The sounds pleased her.

His skin was salty on her tongue. She kissed his chin, under his jaw, the apple of his throat, which moved a little when he swallowed and vibrated when he groaned. Her mouth found his collarbone, the muscular pectorals below it. Hera ran her hands over his front twice, savoring the contrast between the soft skin and the hard flesh beneath it. Even his scars aroused her. She traced the long one under his ribcage, curving and terrible.

"A fine boy, you are."

She brushed her lips across one hard, dark nipple, and his hands twitched, ruining the moment.

"You will keep still."

Hera rotated her hips, lightly rubbing her cunt against his navel. He clenched his jaw, pursed his lips, lolled his head.

"I thought..," the demon exhaled in agitation, "this was a reward."

His distress was most satisfying. "Oh, but it is." She leaned forward and ran the tip of her tongue along the pad of his nipple. "You'll have never known such pleasure."

When she took the bud into her mouth and sucked, he hissed. Hera moved to the other, did the same, and was granted gasps and wide eyes.

"Your points of sensitivity are similar to my own. Man, woman, we fit. You were designed that way." She released her hold, grabbed his left hand and placed it upon her breast. The demon squeezed the underside lightly, swiped his thumb across the nipple until it grew too tender and she pushed him away.

"Not yet you eager child."

"Then when?"

"When I say." She snapped. He glared and she smiled as she made her way lower, kissing each mound, each dip of his powerful abdomen, careful not to disturb his erection. She wanted him scarcely able to contain himself. She wanted him in agony, but the stubborn boy that he was, tried to move again.

"Be still." It annoyed her, yet feeling her own desire mounting, the Goddess Hera gave in.

She grabbed his penis, held the corded muscle taut. It pulsated in her grasp. Her thumb followed one vein, a rather large one, from the middle of the shaft all the way to the end. The demon closed his eyes tight. He lined his lips. The inhale through his nose was a sharp sound.

The child looked pitiful.

_Good._

She swiped her thumb across the tip, causing the thick, cloudy liquid of his essence to leak everso. It was sticky in her palm.

"You said-," his snarl was pathetic.

"I know what I said." Seeing him this way pleased her far more than it should. 

She ran her hand down the shaft slowly, firmly, as she knew he'd like. The demon bit his lower lip. He was in pain. Delicious pain. It aroused her further to see him strung taut and ripe for plucking.

"Shall I ease your distress, child?"

He didn't answer. She stroked him again, this time taking care to stimulate the tip. More of his seed came forth. She wanted to taste it.

"Answer me, or this will be a rather long night."

He sighed. His lips trembled. "Yes." His voice was rich, husky with need.

"Very well..."

The Goddess sat on her knees, mouth hovering over his member. Her back was curved, ass in the air, the cheeks spread bare, breasts resting upon his thighs. She could hear the wild beating of his heart and feel the thump of his pulse against her nipples from his femoral artery.

Hera tested the waters; it was her first time pleasuring the boy with her tongue and she wanted to discover exactly what made him unravel. She flicked the tip of it against the underside, near where the ruffled skin of the neck met the foreskin of the head.

He gasped again and cursed. She liked the sound. Moving up, she placed a feathery kiss upon the tip. His seed was bitter and tangy, though not unpleasant. The difference between it and her brother's was vast. This child was a mortal after all, with mortal flavors, and for the moment, that suited her just as well.

She took more into her mouth, lightly grazing the sensitive ridges with her teeth. He sighed. He swore.

"Fuck." It was a breath.

Hera rolled her tongue against the shaft and pulled upward, applying just enough pressure to make him groan, make him buck into her. She massaged the papery skin of his testicles with her left hand, clasping the top with the tips of her fingers and gently pulling down. The noises he made were hoarse, urgent, plaintive.

The Goddess smiled around his bulk and grabbed the base of his girth with her right. She stroked him as her head drew lower, nearly two thirds of the way down, sucking, working his member until it reached so far into her throat that she had to retreat.

He kept resisting her hold, kept twisting and trying to grasp her hair, to grasp the rushes, to grasp anything.

She hummed in amusement at his torment, but moved her hand faster against the base. His breathing was ragged. She sucked and licked and kissed, developing a fine motion until she felt his testicles contract and seize in her palm. His seed filled her mouth, went down her throat, before she could pull back. His cry of pleasure was a lovely thing.

She kept him there, in her mouth, until he spent himself entirely, and kissed the softening tip as she drew away. Hera wiped her lips with the back of her hand and sat on her heels to look at his face. It was more alluring than his cry. His brows were drawn, his eyes were closed, he seemed almost sad.

The more she looked at him, the more she saw his whore mother. They were nearly the same shade of brown. He'd her brow and cheekbones. He favored that bastard a great deal as well, and it may have irritated her too much, if not for the subtle differences. The demon was larger and far stockier. His chin was slightly longer and his bottom lip fuller. His hair waved in its length, instead of curling like the bastard's, and his nose was straight and true and didn't curve everso.

"Release me." Breath steady, his brown eye soft.

She touched his abdomen. "If you wish."

He sat up swiftly and pulled her close. Holding her face, he kissed her with a tenderness she didn't think he possessed, but pulled away after a time. His lips went to the hollow of her neck, near her shoulders, when she stopped him.

"Not yet."

"What do you-,"

"Not. Yet. Do you need a reminder of who is in control here?"

He glowered but remained silent.

"Good, you're learning."

Hera beckoned the vial to her from the pocket of her gown. It glowed amethyst as it moved through the air, amethyst in her excitement. It was the size of her palm and the yellow-orange oil it contained made the glass surrounding it turn gold in the firelight.

"What is that for?"

"It is time for lessons. This," she held the bottle in his line of sight, turning it this way and that as she spoke, "is oil from flowers and the saffron threads of my garden-,"

"More food?" He raised the scarred brow.

"In a way." Hera rubbed her thumb against his bottom lip, against the tops of the teeth at the center of the bottom row. She liked her thumb in his mouth. He bit it, applying only the slightest pressure. "You like to eat. There will be plenty for your palate tonight."

He held her wrist, took the digit from his mouth, and smirked. "And what shall you teach me?"

"Here-," she poured oil into his palms, "rub them toget- yes, like that."

He frowned, confused. "It's warm. It tingles."

The Goddess sighed a laugh, nuzzled his nose as she spoke. "It's supposed to tingle." She kissed his cheek. "We need it for the exercise. Now," she looked into his eyes, "rub my clitoris."

His thumb found the nub before she finished her words. He moved the pad of it over her bundle of nerves in a circular motion, going slowly, the touch growing firmer by the moment.

"Oh," she sighed. "That's _good_." His dark eye was predatory. She couldn't look away. "This night- you, you'll learn the pleasures of my ass."

He was quick, grabbed it with his free hand before she could stop him.

"A pleasurable thing indeed." He kneaded the cheek he held. One oily finger stroked back and forth across her anus, while his thumb kept massaging her clit. "Though, a tight fit." Her vision hazed. "Are you certain you can handle me there?"

It was funny, yet the Goddess Hera couldn't laugh, not while his hands were on her. "Your confidence is... strangely endearing." She leaned her forehead against his, started to rock her hips against his hands. "Oh, you'll fit without... hmm... question." He wasn't her brother. He wasn't even a God.

"And you will enjoy this?" She caught a flicker of hesitation. Even with all his murderous rage and blood lust, the child held a gentle heart.

"Oh... yes." She moaned. "When done properly, it is a most gratifying pleasure."

He stuck that oiled finger into her anus, and two fingers into her cunt and she gasped at the sensation. The demon moved his hands in tandem, moved them like a wave, causing her hips to roll and her lips to quiver. Hera cried out when he stuck another finger into her ass. Her head lolled back. She was quickly reaching that point of bliss that he'd taken her to so many times, and when she looked down from the fabrics of the roof, his smile was all teeth and wolfish delight.

"Most gratifying." She held his shoulders tight as he moved further inside. Her head drooped, forehead resting against the crook of his neck. His lips brushed the shell of her ear. "If you wanted me to fuck you in the ass, you need just ask. Your pretense was quite unnecessary."

She would have spoken, put him in his place, had he not increased his pace. It was difficult to remain upon her knees. Her thighs shook and her control on remaining upright was slipping. When she turned her head, he licked her neck, moving down the curve of it, kissing here, sucking there. It was almost too much, and when again his thumb found her clitoris, when it began to grind her well, it took only three rotations of the digit to make her gasp and sigh and clench around his fingers, to cry out in sweet joy.

She was breathless when she grabbed his face and kissed him hard. He rose and pulled her to her feet. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to fuck you," he turned and grabbed two thick furs from his bedding, "against that table."

His frankness made her smile. "Are you now?"

"Yes." She grabbed the vial from the floor. Her eyes were drawn to the way his penis bounced up and down as he walked. It stood unabashed in its erectness. "Come."

The demon extended his hand for her to grasp. Her heart fluttered when she took it.

He stopped short of the wooden bench once they reached it and ushered her before him. His hands moved up and over her body, from her navel, against her ribs, the swell of her breasts. The callousness of his thumbs was rough against her sensitive nipples.

Hera leaned back, scraping her ass against the uneven wood of the edge, and hissed.

"Here." The demon tossed the furs to the tabletop, spread them out, and lifted her to sit upon them. He knelt, pushed her legs apart, and began kissing her knees, working his way to her inner thighs and finally her cunt.

He licked the outer walls, stroked his fingers gently against them, going deeper as time passed. She cried out when his tongue flicked across her clit once, twice. Hera was ready for him to push something into her, his tongue, his fingers, but he backed away and rose to his feet.

"What, what are you doing?" The desperation in her voice bothered her.

"Hand me the oil."

"Never order me-,"

He sighed and took it from the table, distributing it upon his hands evenly. Grabbing her thigh, he pulled her close.

"Turn around."

The child was entirely too comfortable speaking to her that way. It would stop now. She slapped him. "I said never to-,"

Hera gasped when he picked her up by the waist and turned her. As he leaned against her, his penis brushed the small of her back. His breath was warm against her ear. His voice rumbled. "I know what you said." He moved her hair to her opposite shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. "But if this is going to work, if you want to continue these meetings, you have to trust me."

Trust him. Her eyes found his bident immediately. Hera wriggled from his embrace, turned, and placed her hands on her hips.

"You tried to kill me once."

He rose a brow. "I nearly died five times while in your service."

"Yet here you stand." She gestured to him with her right hand.

"Here I stand." He agreed.

His penis was curved upward, pointing at her, dark and veinous and strong, quite like him. It was distracting. She wanted to touch it.

Hera poured oil into her palm, rubbed her hands together, touched his chest. "You stand here," her hands moved down his body until she held the shaft, "you breathe this day, because I will it." She stroked him slowly, lingered at the tip. "Never forget that."

"I," the apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed, "I understand."

"Good."

"You have my word that I shall not disrupt your pleasure this night."

He was calm. She didn't like it. She could smell the whiff of a scheme and decided to shift through his thoughts.

Hera saw herself with his eyes: glowing, lunar, beautiful. Her presence shone pale yellow and celestial. Her lips were dark against it, the color of rich wine. The perceptions of mortals were fickle things wrought with inaccuracies.

_... must do..._

The words were fast. She had to concentrate. Mental impressions were ever evolving, ever altering things, that flitted between waves of idea at rapid speeds. They were difficult to grasp at times, and though Hera was an old God, the Queen of Olympians, she struggled to find what she sought.

_... must do as she wishes..._

"What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed.

_... don't let her..._

"Assessing your allegiance."

_... what?.._

"What?" He scoffed.

"What are you hiding?"

_... what are you hiding?.._

_what am I hiding?.._

_must do as she..._

_don't let her..._

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't let me, what?"

His eyes widened with comprehension.

_... in your head..._

_**she's in your head**..._

"Get out of my mind." He bared his teeth.

The Goddess smirked. She stroked him again and watched him struggle to remain what he thought to be intimidating.

"As you wish, but know this, should you find yourself with thoughts of summoning your weapon and shoving it into my back, I will show you no mercy. I'll take the blade and cut off your manhood with it." She rose to the tips of her toes and kissed the side of his mouth. "Have I made myself clear?"

His nostrils flared.

"Answer me, boy." Her hand moved slowly down the shaft.

"Ye-yes." His eyes fluttered closed.

"Good."

Breathing deeply, the demon grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away.

"The, the table."

She hummed in amusement. "Alright."

He took another deep breath and followed her. She sat upon its edge, and when he bent to kiss her, the furs shifted against her thighs.

His hands were slippery with the oil. She broke away and lowered herself to the floor. Hera turned and leaned against the table, ass up, ready for him. As she rested on her elbows, her breasts brushed the furs.

She heard him sigh just before he squeezed the fatty cheeks. Her cunt was still moist from his kisses, so when he slipped a finger inside, curling and uncurling, it moved with little resistance. A finger from his other hand- the left- stroked her anus lightly before plunging in.

Hera gasped, her back arched. He removed his hand from her cunt and spread her cheeks wider. He poured more oil over her anus before putting another finger into her ass and forking the two, allowing just enough space for his penis to enter.

There was pressure, she heard his grunts. She took deep breaths as he pushed in and out, going further and further each time until she felt his testicles smack her labia.

His forehead rested between her shoulder blades and his hair fell over them, the braid lying upon the table, tickling her forearms.

The demon stayed like that for a time and it was nice. She hadn't felt such intimacy since she'd last allowed her brother to take her this way. She felt he enveloped her. She felt whole.

He began to move again, slowly at first- always slow, _such a considerate boy_ \- but soon found a delicate pace. He held her hips as he gave long, deep strokes.

She bit her lips and rubbed her clit in time with his movements. The world shifted with his thrusts, back and forth until it was just the ragged sounds of his breathing or her own, the _slap- slap, slapping_ of his testicles against her ass, the drumming of his heart.

Her pleasure was building. He pulled her hair back, pulling her head, and she saw the bright sheen of sweat upon his brow. His eye was dark, focused, animal.

She moaned and groaned and cried out when he reached that spot, that place within her that made her come apart completely. Her entire body, from the tips of her toes, to the curve of her ears, was alive, sparking with the sublimity of it all. It overtook her more so than even a vaginal orgasm could at times.

He groaned and hollered. His nails dug deep into her hips. His release was thick and hot and filled her in a way that made hers last that much longer.

Her strength left her. She panted against the table with him heaving, lying limp upon her back.

She reached into his mind again and saw naught but the golden- white haze of contentment. 

His hair brushed her skin when he finally moved. He kissed her back, between the shoulder blades, going down the spine until his tongue slipped along the line of her ass.

Hera squeaked, tried to move away, her skin was still too raw, but he held her steadfast and nudged his nose, his mouth against her anus, upon her cunt beneath it, licking and teasing as he went. He rose quickly, flipped her over, and buried his head between her thighs.

She could barely stand it as he sucked her swollen clitoris, as he stroked fingers into her folds, as he moved and worried and nipped and applied just the right amount of _pressure_ -

The sound of her orgasm wheezed through tired lips. He kept licking until she pushed him away roughly, with a kick of her knee.

"Stop," she breathed. "Stop, stop it."

She had no strength left in any of her limbs. Hera laid back upon the table, exhausted.

The demon laughed a little, rose to his feet, and picked her up. He walked to his bedding in four strides and kept her in his lap while he sat.

He held her close; the palm of one hand moving up the line of her back lazily.

"You enjoyed that," his eye was knowing, "didn't you." His smirk was vain. Half-heartedly, she slapped his chest.

"Excessive pride is a sin."

"Is it?" He lifted her chin and brushed her lips with his own. "I see no fault in applauding a job well done."

The slightest curve of his lips and her heart skipped a beat, though she's not sure why. Maybe it was an effect of her slow descending exhilaration; or maybe it was due to the way he looked at her. His eyes gleamed like her brother's used to after they'd just finished making love.

Hera brought her thumb to his graying cheek, ready to brush, when he grabbed her wrist and kissed her palm. Her smile was wide and true.

It could be from the fact that he was a much better lover than she thought he'd be; or because he was young and strapping and handsome.

He kissed her wrist. He kissed the inside of her arm, her elbow, never breaking eye contact. She bit her lip. _This is getting out of hand_.

Whatever the case, it mattered naught. She was too fond of this child, and that simply wouldn't do.

"No, but arrogance has been the undoing of man for millennia."

"I'm not every man, I'm one man. There's never been a man like me."

Hera rose an eyebrow, lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. "Are you sure?"

He narrowed his eyes. They were red again, the whites completely black. "Positive."

"In a sense, you are correct. Never have I indulged in such activities with a mortal. You are the first."

"And the last. You will find no other to satisfy you once I'm gone."

She did laugh. "Arrogance. It will cripple you."

He hummed. "Let's hope not."

"I did not come to attest your egotism."

The demon sighed. "What do you require of me now?"

"I need your men to create a diversion. My brother's main objective will be finding the cauldron once the fighting begins. Set wagons in the rear of the march. Arm them heavily. That should distract his forces long enough for us to take the mountain."

Reticent eyes met her own. "Will that please you?"

"It will."

Hesitation, a frown. "Alright."

Hera leaned into him, put her arms around his neck, kissed his chin. She'll ignore those guarded eyes for now.

"Once I dethrone my brother, there shall be a new order amongst man. What happened to you shall never again come to pass." She flicked her tongue against his upper lip. "There will be a new golden age." Her pointer finger curled around one thick tendril of white hair.

"What are you talking about?"

Her smile came easy. "You don't know, do you? How would you? It fell away from the history of mortals." She sighed, stroking her thumb upon the scar of his left cheek, the skin rougher now that it was entirely gray. "Man was once made of gold, when my father ruled this realm. Mortals lived for a thousand years on average and knew no sorrow, no toil. When they died, it was only in peaceful slumber. There was no war. No ambition. It was paradise."

"And what became of this time without ambition?"

"My brother. When my father fell, he took charge and angered the mortals. They refused to pay tribute to him, gave no offerings, and rebuked his claim as successor."

"How did he respond?"

"With fire and death. Thereafter, it was decided that mortals shall remain inferior. Silver men came and went, then bronze and ash tree and finally," she touched his chest, pectoral warm against her palm, "iron. You iron men are rough and more troublesome than any other before you."

"Iron men? I am made of flesh and bone-,"

His ignorance was somewhat refreshing. "You've iron in your blood, child. Along with many other metals. Your body reflects the world you walk upon. That is why I must change it. When we prevail, the evils my brother has unleashed upon us will be vanquished. The balance shall be restored."

"You'll build your new world, but what of me? Your prom-"

"I am well aware of our deal." She wasn't angry. Her words weren't sharp. "Wise boy, try to become more perspicacious. Some things are larger than they appear in the moment." Hera nuzzled his nose. "You shall be king, and rule over all Hellenes."

"I'm already a king."

"No true king, not yet. With me, you'll have the whole of Olympus behind you. You can conquer as you see fit, go as far as Indus," she kiss his cheek, "to the shores of Æthiopia if you wish," she kissed his mouth, "nothing will stop you."

"Nothing." He breathed.

"I told you once, the crown of the world shall be yours."

 _And you'll be mine_ , she thought. _I think I may keep him as a lover._

She smiled and traced the line of his jaw.

_Yes, I believe I'll like that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this five times and still don't like it. This is one half of the Olympian/ Giant war (see next chapter for the actual battles). I had to chop because it grew too long. Forgive any spelling/ grammatical errors. No beta (how does one obtain a beta?). As always, thanks for reading.


	5. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smoot this round. Sowwy :(

A red dawn opened her war.

The eastern sky streaked cherry and scarlet and tangerine. As the sun rose, it's rays bathed the towers of Olympus, causing each peak and point to glare more crimson than white.

When her force neared the city, battalions of demons marching up the green, rocky hillsides; the heads of the Giants rising high, bursting through the clouds; her legion of Gods advancing to reclaim their home in her name, Hera saw him. Her husband stood along the lip of a bluff, right above the lower reservoir.

Zeus was armored and radiating with the blue static of his power. The Gods remaining him stood along the cliffside, just behind him, watching their approach like bees surrounding a hive.

The stillness lasted until he gave some speech, always one for speeches he, then there was a battle cry and a great display of energy from her husband. He released a large stream of lightening into the sky above him, darkening the clouds.

The time had come it seemed, and Hera was ready.

The battle commenced with flaming balls of rock catapulted from on high. Hephaestus' machines were maddeningly accurate. After three rounds of the barrage, a quick glance back showed her that a quarter of her vanguard was burning.

Hera went to the ground, caught most of the next assault with her power and threw it back, to little effect, though it made no matter, for her army was nearly at the city's base.

She smiled as her brother met her eye and frowned when he looked to his bastard. He nodded once and in the next moment, the boy was gone, before her march, running in a circle. He created a tornado and propelled it forth. The whirlwind ripped a path clear through the vanguard's center. It made the dirt whip and dust around them, giving Zeus' advance an advantageous guise.

The charioted Gods charged, and the real fighting began. All around her, the chaos of war ensued. The cling and clatter of blade against blade rang through her ears. She heard the screeching of dying horses as well as the cries of falling men. The Giants stomped and tore and devoured all those before them.

That's when her husband began to throw thunderbolts. It went on for some time, and there was nothing to do but dodge the attack. The instant it stopped Hephaestus' cannonade resumed.

The new assault focused on the Giants, knocking them back, trying to repel. Hera caught more of the fire balls and destroyed five catapults in turn. She was aware that her husband was now on the ground, in the thick of the fighting.

When the first of the Giants reached Olympus, breaking the walls that contained the lower reservoir, a great tidal wave swept across the battleground. She took to the sky and saw Poseidon manipulate the water, creating a massive curving wall.

Zeus jumped in the air, summoned ripple after ripple of electricity from the clouds he manifested and plummeted to the ground.

_So that's their plan._

Hera smirked and watched the water ignite blue and white with death.

She knew just what to do.

O.o.O

Seraphim avoided the sea God's water beams and tidal waves with ease. His chimera flew around each obstacle with the swiftness and agility he'd expect from a cat.

He saw the Goddess in the air, monitoring her brothers, face stern, expression murderous. He saw the Giants as they climbed the mountainous foundations of the city; watched as they destroyed building after building until a pack of Gods grouped together to push back the attack. He saw his men slaughtered by the score. That made him angry, fueled his rage in his hunt.

What he didn't see was the cauldron.

She'd hidden it somewhere, giving no hints, even after he licked her and sucked her and fucked her well. The damned woman wouldn't crack a daktylos, much to his irritation.

He decided to double back. With her gone, he'd the opportunity to look more thoroughly around their host and supplies. He'd have to be quick, but that wasn't a problem.

Seraphim knew it was the right decision when he heard the crows and saw that man- his brother- upon the back of a griffin, high enough in the gray clouds for camouflage, nosediving and fast, for what must surely be the cauldron.

"Faster!" He urged his chimera. "We can't let him get away!"

O.o.O

Hera unleashed the onslaught of earth while he was distracted, looking at Poseidon, the two smiling in their small victory. As she crushed her husband, their brother evaded red beams of lambent energy from her Giants.

The attack was without honor, but that hardly mattered. Her goal was to win, by any means necessary.

He was bruised and bleeding upon the ground, had wriggled free of the rock before he spoke.

"They'll," he gasped, "they'll betray you." She could see the look in his eyes as clear as if she'd been a hand's reach away and not in the sky above him. "Don't let them destroy Olympus."

That look made her skin crawl with contempt. He was trying to appeal to her mercy with those eyes. He knew her weakness for them, for him.

_My husband, the coward._

She lifted more boulders and held them in the air, spread out so he could see his doom.

"You should have thought of that before you slept with that whore."

Her assault flew at him in a barrage of brown and lavender.

"It didn't have to be this way." She knew he could hear her under the rubble.

Even now, she didn't want this. The Goddess didn't want him injured. She didn't want him hurt. She wanted-

Hera couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Her chest was heavy, tight with emotion. Vaguely, she noticed the tears falling down her cheeks.

"It didn't have to be this way," she repeated, "but you are an adulterous liar and I've had enough!"

A surge of his power crackled above her from the charcoal colored clouds. She raised her face just in time to see the sharp white blast come down to smite her.

O.o.O

Seraphim was fast- _had to be_ \- as he spurred his chimera on. They crashed into his brother and the griffin he rode at top speed, making the lot of them tumble in the air, causing the winged creatures to lose their balance in flight.

Somehow, his chimera's attack was repelled. The griffin made to retreat by flying above them. Seraphim stopped the action by throwing his bident through the creature's neck, severing its head.

His brother's scream bellowed in free fall. The sound cut abruptly when Seraphim caught him, holding him by the wrist of one arm.

His twin- Heron- glared. It made him smirk.

"You really must choose sides more wisely."

"Speak for yourself." Heron snarled. "Hera's gonna lose."

"Without a doubt," he agreed, "but I don't intend to. Zeus cannot win. Beg my forgiveness, and I may consider letting you live."

Heron spat toward the ground. "There's your forgiveness. You killed my mother. You'll never recruit me."

Seraphim's grip upon his twin's wrist tightened. _I should let him fall_. He should, but he didn't, _not yet._

 _You killed my mother_ \- **_our mother_**. Their mother.

_I should let him fall._

Seraphim was conflicted and maybe his twin could see as much in his eyes. Heron's brow laxed ever so slightly.

_I can't change him, no more than I can change myself._

His twin stared at him, unblinking for a long moment, as though he could hear Seraphim's thoughts. He repeated himself.

"Never."

O.o.O

Her husband rose from the rubble, bloody and panting.

"Hera, stop this," he wheezed, "before it's too late."

He couldn't see. It was already too late. She couldn't stop, _wouldn't stop_ , even if she wanted to.

Hera turned to look at him and saw him blurry through her tears. She wiped her eyes as he spoke.

"Hera," he coughed more blood, "please."

She was drawn to the blue of his gaze; deep cobalt blue, like the sea against moonlight or the sky when it's so clear you can see the heavens from earth.

That gaze was the first thing she noticed about him when, at last, she was freed from her father's clutches. At that time, her brother was young and filled to the brim with life and energy and the promise of a better world, but now-

That deep blue gaze, and the arrogant smiles, and those wondering eyes- she could only see his broken promises and each infidelity and his weakness and her own.

Her frown was deep-set; it strained the muscles of her brow. With her power and arm extended, Hera took command of more boulders.

"You did this to yourself!"

_This time, I'll bury him._

"Hera!" He yelled. His expression shifted from pleading to fearful. "No-"

The sound of his voice muffled as the jaw clamped shut around her body. It's fangs pierced the flesh of her calves. It's tongue swiveled against her backside.

_I've been swallowed._

Panic ran down her spine like snowmelt.

"No." It was a breath in the moist, black prison. "No!"

Something tugged hard against her legs, _another mouth_ , and the one she was in opened enough to free her body while restraining her arms. She was in the serpent mouths of the Giants' leader. _Damn him, the wretch! He’ll pay when I get out of here._ When the blades of their teeth sunk deeper into her arms and legs, the heads began to pull away from each other, tearing her body apart as they went.

Hera felt her bones snap. She heard her husband screaming in the distance somewhere, and although the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, nothing was more present to her senses than the roaring pain burning through her limbs.

She screamed in distress and tried to break free.

Twisting her legs, she shifted every ounce of her power to her limbs. It did little, until-

There was an explosion and the pressure against her lower half laxed. As it dissipated, Hera felt the static of her brother's power buzz against her healing legs.

The grip of the serpentine head tightened against her arms. _With a little more pressure, the Giant could very well rip them off._ Hera focused all her strength in summoning anything she could grasp to her hands.

Nothing came, though when the head began to thrash about, wringing her to and fro through the air, she caught a glimpse of familiar blue- white energy. In the next moment, she felt the heat of a mighty blast on her back.

The mouth opened completely, wide in shock? In pain? In death?

It didn't matter. Hera fell to the ground and cratered the earth around her.

She bled profusely from her abdomen. Her limbs burned as she expelled bright green venom from the angry red puncture wounds. There was no time to heal them.

The great pounding of the Giant’s footsteps rivaled the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears. It took too much of her strength, but slowly, she rose her eyes to face the massive creature. It was burned and injured. The blasts of her husband's lightening took great chunks from it's face and chest.

_How are you still alive?_

She couldn't move, not yet. When the Giant rose his knee, foot in the air, intending to crush her, she noticed her brother. Zeus was in the serpent mouth of the Giant, its fangs clamped around his torso, filling his body with poison. She could see it running through his face in horrifying webs.

"No." She breathed. "Not like this."

As Hera waited for the Giant's foot to fall, she met that blue gaze and saw resolve in it. He winked, the same way he always did just before he'd do something stupid and heroic.

"What are you-"

His eyes shone blue with electricity and she remembered. So long ago, but sharp and fresh in her mind in that moment.

_The force of the Giant's pull was too strong. She was being sucked in. The winds whipped around her and she turned to see the vortex she would have to fight her way through, when she felt someone grab her arm._

_It was Zeus. He was strapping and powerful, and when he winked, and went with her through the whirlwind, navigating them through the shifting storm to its center, he held her close and tore the Giant apart with a burst of energy._

_He smiled down at her and Hera knew it would be easy to fall in love with him._

His blue- white power grew brighter and brighter until it consumed the serpent completely. Hera heard static hum through the air. She felt the charge against her skin, even from the ground.

He screamed, a battle cry- _his final battle cry?_ \- and combusted into a flurry of blue.

The Giant fell backwards. Her heart shattered. Water fell from the clouds in a light drizzle.

When half of his golden helmet reached the ground, the faintest _clank_ in the aftermath, the world stopped.

_What have I done?_

O.o.O

"You should have joined me when you had the chance. Now you'll die."

Seraphim released his hold and let his fool twin fall to the ground.

The last blue streaks of the lightening blast were dissipating. He strengthened the grip of his thighs upon his chimera to steady himself and pulled a handful of the leonine mane.

"Let's go!"

As they flew, the war slowed to a standstill. The explosion shocked even the Giants, but all too soon, the novelty began to ebb. He had to be quick.

Seraphim saw her there- on the ground, sobbing. A piece of Zeus' faceplate was in the rubble, it glinted as he neared.

She reached for it, extending her right arm. _The vambrace_. Her palm shone soft purple. The Goddess took no notice of him, was rapt with the worthless sliver of gold.

He saw his opportunity. He had to be quick- _must always be quick_. Seraphim grabbed his bident and hurled it at her arm, where metal met flesh. She didn't look up, didn't hear the whoosh of the blade, and when it went through, straight and clean, she screamed in surprise, in anguish, in pain.

_At last!_

He jumped to the ground, landed with a thump, and pulled his weapon from the earth.

_Now, do it now-_

The Goddess ripped her gaze from the gushing red wound of her arm and stared at him. Tears stained her cheeks. Her crystalline eyes were full of confusion, apprehension, fear.

_Finally, she fears you._

Her curving headpiece was broken in two places. The misting rainfall made her dark hair darker, made her golden skirts seem heavy. The blood running from her nostrils lightened in color as it mixed with the water.

Her brow furrowed as he flourished his weapon, spinning it for a moment, two, three-

_Do it now._

She forgot her injury, her dead husband, and held her head high in defiance. Her eyes hardened- _how dare you? -_ they said.

_Do it now._

She opened her mouth to speak; to reprimand him, to soothe him? He couldn't say.

_Do it now. Fall for none of her tricks. This is your chance. Don't be a fool. **Do it now!**_

Seraphim raised his arm and prepared to throw the bident through her heart when she transformed into a murder of crows and flew away.

_Damn._

Her severed limb lay upon the ground.

"Finally," his voice was soft as he spoke to the vambrace, "you're mine."

He smiled as he picked it up, as he removed her dead flesh from the gold. The size needed adjusting but that was done in moments. After securing the armor to his right arm, he felt its energy flow through him.

_This is what true power feels like._

He whistled and was atop his chimera, summoning the cauldron to his hand. It vibrated in his palm as he held it high above his head for all to see. This was perhaps the greatest gift she had given him. The satisfaction matched that of their trysts and left him heady. He laughed as he watched God after God turn to look at him, all wide eyed, mouths agape.

In that moment of distraction, his Giants attacked. As the battle waged before him, he could see victory. _I've won._

"There's no one left to stop me! Submit and I may be merciful."

The whirl of a discus flew from above him, from his left, and before he could react, the cauldron was knocked from his hands. Someone jumped down, landing behind him upon his chimera, and held him in a choke hold. Seraphim grabbed the wretch's wrist, twisting enough to break it, and tossed him over.

From the corner of his eye, he saw his twin's curly head moving swiftly through the air below him.

_Damn, he survived._

Heron flew astride a winged horse with the Archon seated behind him. He'd the cauldron in his grasp.

Seraphim summoned his bident, ready to slice Heron's head off with it, finishing the job he started, and felt a shift to the weight of the chimera in flight.

_Another one chooses to fight me mid-air? He'll join the other in-_

There was a great wet slash, his chimera released a sickening roar, and they were spiraling to the earth.

 _No, no_ , he thought as they tumbled and tumbled, finally stopping on a plateau of brown rock. Seraphim scrambled from under the corpse of his chimera, rose to his feet and peered over its form to see which soon to be dead man committed the offense.

It was no man at all, but the Archon, the Amazonian Alexia.

He looked at his chimera again. The rain came in a downpour. The coolness of the water caused the cut along his chimera's underbelly to steam as it lost heat. _Another friend gone_. His hatred built until he puffed rage. Baring his teeth, Seraphim threw his bident at her with all his might. She'd a shield to block the blow, though it did little, for the force of his weapon propelled her to the rock formation behind her; knocking her head, her back against it and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

He walked to her slowly. _I'll flay her and feed her to the two headed beast_ -

A shout from above him gave just enough time to cross his arms and block Heron's feet from his face. He came from the air like a thunderbolt.

It made him drop to his knees, caused Heron to skid to the right. When he stood up, Heron shot an arrow, which he deflected. Seraphim willed his bident from its place near the Archon and shot it toward him.

His twin ran to meet it, caught the staff, and jumped into the air, gaining enough elevation and momentum to turn twice and punch Seraphim square in his face. The blow knocked them over, made them slide.

He tasted blood.

Again, Heron struck him, harder than before. He could feel the ground crack beneath them. Seraphim peeked at him through his swelling eye. His twin struggled with something mentally, looked as though he were going to cry.

_Such weakness in battle is foolish._

He punched Seraphim again and did start crying.

More punches, the rain mixed with his tears, though the blows were beginning to weaken.

_Now's your chance-_

Seraphim was quick as he blocked Heron's fist from smashing his cheek. He caught it, squeezing the knuckles as hard as he could. He brought his right hand to the side of his twin's face and dug his nails in deep, piercing the flesh so completely that the pads of his fingers disappeared into his face.

Heron screamed in pain as he lifted and slammed his head against the ground. Seraphim rose to his feet and pulled Heron with him by the hold he had on his face. He swung him and flung him against the same rock formation that had been the Archon's undoing.

His twin did not go down.

Panting, enraged, coughing blood, he charged, making to punch him again. Seraphim side stepped, dodging the attack easily, grabbed him as he overshot himself, and forced him into a choke hold.

_I'll skewer him._

Heron realized what was happening but too late. As he struggled, flailing his arms, trying to wrench free, Seraphim held him steady and summoned his bident. The weapon raced toward them, the gleaming bronze blades level with his twin's chest. Heron caught its pole just before it would have pierced the linen of his chiton.

Seraphim tightened his grip, applying more pressure to Heron's throat, to the back of his head. He strengthened the pull of his force upon the bident. It was irritating, it was marvelous, his twin would not submit. It made Seraphim smile, wide and true.

"You'll die fighting." He grunted. "I was afraid you'd cow after realizing you'd lost. Perhaps, under different circumstances, I wouldn't have minded calling you brother."

Then, all at once, Heron exhaled and let go of the bident. It sank into his chest, just under his heart. Despite himself, Seraphim gasped.

"You quit so easily?" _It made little sense, the rage, the desperation was there moments before_. "Have I exhausted you, brother? Are you resigned to your fate?"

Though his questions went unanswered, Seraphim released his hold and watched him sway forward, quite drunkenly. The fabric of his clothes stuck to his body. Heron panted in his last breaths.

_I'll let him bleed out. I'll speak with him as he dies. I'll-_

The pain was sharp, and Seraphim cried out at the suddenness of it. Heron thrust the bident completely through his own chest to stab Seraphim in his.

"You're mad!" He wheezed.

He tried to back away, to get the weapon out, but his twin and the pole moved with him. He walked until his back was to the rock formation. With his power, all his power, Seraphim tried to force the bident from his chest, but Heron held it firmly in place. The push and pull of the metal against his lungs burned like fire and the longer it stayed there, the more blood came from his mouth, from his nose.

At last, Heron tore the bident from their chests and staggered away, gasping as he went.

"I... know your heart, brother... your rage... your fear-"

It was preposterous. Heron turned and threw a weak punch that was caught immediately.

"How could you?" He sneered. He panted and spat blood. "You don't... know me."

"I do. I've felt it too."

Heron stopped fighting, leaned his head against Seraphim, and grabbed his shoulder.

"Do you yield?" Seraphim tugged a handful of his twin's short, wet hair to look in his eyes, to know his truth, to know he's won.

"No." The rage in Heron's face was gone. He was calm. Seraphim didn't understand.

"Brothers or not," he glared, "if you're not with me than you're against me."

"If those are still my options-," Heron grabbed his face, held Seraphim by the chin and cheeks. His eyes shone bright and godly. Seraphim heard the shimmer of static in the air around them. The hair of his arms stood on end. "-then I'm against you."

Seraphim gasped. _No_ , he thought, _not yet, not like this-_

The lightening came before his next thought. There was bright, white light and the sensation of ten thousand red hot blades stabbing him all at once. He felt his heart explode. He felt his brain fry. The last thing he saw was his twin's face. There was hatred there. There was remorse.

And then, the world went black.

O.o.O

Hera had to know what happened to him. She couldn't feel him anymore. His presence wasn't in the air, or in her mind whenever she looked over regions she knew he frequented on Earth. He wasn't near Olympus. He wasn't at sea. He simply wasn't there-

The fighting was done and now she was without her right arm, but that hardly mattered. She had to find him. And there was only one who could tell her what's become of her husband. As she made her way to him, her mind raced.

She was almost certain he was not dead. That would be improbable, nay impossible. There hasn't been an Olympian to die a true death since her father and the wars.

_And no one had the stone-_

She heard him scream. She saw him explode. That blue, that white still ran through her mind anytime she closed her eyes. It was horrible.

_What have I done?_

Hera's vision misted with grief, with rage, with regret. Her injured limb burned as she flapped her wings, fighting the sheets of rain and the turbulence of Aeolus' winds all the way to the island of Kasos, to the cave that was her preferred entrance to the Underworld.

When she reached the river's edge and stood on the black stone platform, Hera cast her wings and feathers aside, took on her proper form, and waited for Kharon to row his boat to her pier.

There were whispers from behind her, though she was hardly aware of who said what. The Gods of the Underworld who fought in her war were returning to their realm.

She took no notice of them waiting, loitering. Hera's tears fell like hot streams from her eyes. Normally, she would wipe the water away- her pain was not for others to witness- but now, she didn't care. _Let them see if they wish._

_... was right, we should have stayed..._

_-it was madness to raise them._

_... just like last time, he saved her then as well..._

Hera didn't turn to address their impertinence, though some small part of her itched to strike Deimos for speaking against her. She did not chastise Penthos and Makaria for the same such treason.

_Tantrum._

_What did she think would happen?_

_Look at her arm-_

The Erinyes were bitches who would learn their place. Hera wiped her face. She straightened her shoulders, held her head high above the petulance surrounding her. Inhaling slowly, through her nose, she extended her power to her left arm, her left hand-

_I can't believe he's dead._

Phobos, her grandson, sounded as distraught as she felt.

_He's not dead. **He can't be.** _

Kharon's boat arrived in the next moment. Hera boarded first, daring any of the others to join her. They were wise enough to fall back and wait for the next ferry.

"Where shall I take you, Queen of Olympus?" The discordant growls were strangely soothing.

"Bring me to my brother."

"If that is your wish," his arms pushed off, away from the jetty, and began to paddle upstream, "it shall be done."

Her brother was where she knew he'd be, upon the Isle of the King, in the center of his domain. The island was larger than any one landmass of the Isles of the Blessed, though remained smaller than the Mourning Fields. From its highest point, the Akropolis of Hades, each region was visible. One after the other, they circled the island's shores from the far sides of the river.

A palanquin awaited her at the end of the quayside. The servants were silent, she was silent, as she climbed into the litter, as they carried her atop the rows and rows of steps, passing temples for lesser Gods, halls of law, tholoi of order. The ride was over too quickly.

She was anxious. The step of her sandals echoed as she walked the length of the halls, going through courtyards and rooms, until she found him, in a sizeable room at the back of the structure. The sounds spurred her doubts. She could be wrong. He could be dead.

Hera banished the thought from her mind. Hades' back was to her. He stood before a stone table, cutting slabs of meat into squares with a large cleaver.

He didn't turn to acknowledge her and spoke between chops.

"I take it, your war didn't go as planned."

She ignored his jest just as he ignored her approach.

"Where is he?"

His hands were red with blood. When he picked up handfuls of the meat, distributing it evenly into three black, metal bowls, streams of the red liquid ran down his arms. It disgusted her. Hera scoffed and wrinkled her nose.

"Do you not have servants for that?"

Her brother cleaned his hands, his arms with a cloth when he finished.

"Cerberus is very dear to me. I feed him."

"Yes, of course you do." She tried not to become angry. Obtaining answers from him would be that much more difficult if he responded in kind. "You know why I am here."

"I do." Hades walked to the far end of the room, where it opened to the yard beyond. He whistled, a loud piercing sound, and his monstrous canine came running. The stomps of its strides shook the ground beneath her.

"Here you are." She heard her brother say to the beast in greeting. He was always more affectionate to his damn dog than he was toward her and it made her bristle, if only a little.

It bounced and rolled and wagged its tails, nearly making her fall over in it's ridiculous display of excitement. Hera had to grab the table to steady herself.

Hades laughed. "Calm down."

With a wave of his hand and misty black power, Hera watched him shrink the beast from the height of a mountain to the size of a proper mongrel. He knelt and rubbed the middle head behind an ear as it ate. After a time, his rudeness was quite blatant, her brother rose and rejoined her near the table.

"Hades." Her voice was sharp.

His golden eyes narrowed. "You're in my home, sister."

"I am aware of that." She matched his gaze with a glare. "Your dog has food, answer my question."

It was no plea.

Hades smirked, in the manner that he does, only the slightest twitch of his lips.

"Very well." He wiped the blood and the remaining scraps of flesh and fur from the table into a large wooden bucket. "He is not dead."

"Oh." She exhaled in relief. Tears fell down her cheeks. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." He finished his task and cleaned his hands again. There was pity in his eyes, and something else, something she couldn't discern. "Have you looked to the heavens? Have they changed?"

That slipped her mind. She was preoccupied.

"I came straight here. There could very well be more stars."

He rose a brow. "Not in our realm, sister. You know this. Who has the stone? Who has the conduit? Last I heard, they were lost. If you truly wanted him dead, you'd have done it properly, but you didn't want that, did you? That's why you made such a fuss over the cauldron and Giants."

Hera wiped her cheeks and stood tall. "I will not stand here and be ridiculed!"

"Calm yourself." He had the gall to speak down to her. "Your emotions control you, and the decisions you make thereafter are piss poor." He crossed his arms about his chest, looked down at her. "I suggest you make amends with the Gods of Olympus and tend to your birds. He'll return soon and when he does, it would be wise to soothe his anger and accept your loss."

Her palm itched to strike him. "I do not remember asking for your suggestions."

"You never do and there is always chaos on earth, in heaven. You, Zeus, Demeter, you're all the same." He shook his head. "Even Poseidon controls his rages enough to keep balance."

She spoke slowly. "What I choose-"

"Goes against the laws we all agreed upon. You're too rash. You always were. Now Olympus is without a king, our realm has no storm God," he sighed, "you don't even have a right arm."

Hera's left hand swung. He caught her wrist just before the palm would have reached his cheek. "How dare you!" She snarled.

Hades glowered. His lips were a thin line. "I dare because I must."

He released her wrist only when she calmed.

"Fix this... or I'll have to."

Frowning, her brother tilted his head and looked up for a moment, reading something in the air invisible to her.

"I have a meeting and must go." He grabbed the bucket of scraps, put it in a fire pit, and set it ablaze before turning to leave. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you please. We can dissect your blunders in more detail once I'm done if you wish."

O.o.O

Seraphim couldn't see through the heavy fog. The wall of gray was so thick that he could scarcely make out his hand in front of his face. _Where am I?_

He moved his legs and heard a splash, felt the creaking wood of a boat shift beneath his feet. _I'm on a barge of some sort, but how?_

His memory failed him. He'd no account of venturing to sea. The last thing he remembered was... _what?.._

He remembered lightening and the pungent smell of burnt meat.

He remembered a man... _a man with a face like his own._

He remembered... what did he remember? It was unlike him to forget- _or was that so?_ He wasn't sure.

Seraphim looked around again and saw nothing but the fog.

 _His bident_. He remembered his bident.

It was but a weapon, though it seemed important in the moment. He held his hand out and summoned the pole to his palm.

He could feel it near, pulsing like his heartbeat, its energy emitting waves to his brain, to his being.

"Come to me."

It flew through the air, a flash of bronze, and as he reached up to grab the metal pole, he made a terrible discovery. His hand went right through it. He couldn't touch it.

_What the fuck is going on?_

It flew behind him. Seraphim turned to see just where it went.

"You've used my bident well." The voice echoed, was deep, like the sound made when dropping a stone down an empty well.

A figure began to manifest from the fog, getting darker, growing closer. It was tall. It was godlike. _Another fucking God_. He'd only just freed himself from her-

_Who was she?_

Blood red lips and white smiles flickered through his mind.

_...wise, boy..._

Seraphim shook his head to clear it. It seemed as dense and heavy as the fog surrounding him.

The figure. His bident. **_Focus._**

"Who are you?"

The man floated forward. The fog parted for him, giving Seraphim a full view of his form. He was bald, bearded, and had deep purple lines that cracked down from his head, went through his eyes, and stopped near the end of his nose line. They looked like tears. He held the bident, Seraphim's bident, in his right hand.

"Hades."

The world around him morphed in the worst way imaginable. The fog lifted all at once. Seraphim gasped.

_This cannot be-_

He turned. The barge was a smelly old boat, that upon further inspection, was some sort of monster in itself.

The ferryman- Kharon. His mother told him stories. _His mother_. He remembered his mother.

All around him was the soft red-orange glow of magma. He turned again and saw that the river of fire they were on led to a volcano. Its eruption was endless, orange and white and slashed a bright line through the black sky above.

_I'm dead. I, I lost. How could I have lost?_

The man, the lightening- _his brother_ \- Heron. Heron was his brother... and they fought... and he lost. And now-

The sloshing of the magma against the boat was all he could hear, that and his jumbled thoughts.

_The damned- that mountain is where the damned resides and now-_

"It's far worse than you can imagine." Hades followed his gaze to the volcano. "But I can help you. Save you from the fate that awaits you there."

He remembered the stories: of Sisyphus and his boulder; of Tantalus and the water and the fruit; of Ixion and the flaming wheel. Seraphim was a little like Ixion, though where the Lapith slept with a cloud, Seraphim fucked the woman. That, in combination with his every earthly sin was more than enough to seal his doom.

His torture would be severe-

"I just need you to do one thing for me."

 **_Anything_ ** _. Anything would be better._

"Kneel."

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. He had only just gotten free of her. His revenge- he remembered his revenge. _Kneel_. And he almost had it. That was the worst part. That was what made his blood boil. _Kneel_. And now he was stuck. _Kneel_. With servitude and damnation looming above his head. **_Kneel_**. Seraphim didn't know which was worse.

A roar moved through his stomach, ripping up his throat until he couldn't contain it.

"No!" He snarled, he screamed.

His reaction seemed to amuse the King of the Underworld.

"No?" He asked. "Is that your decision, child?"

What awaited him on that mountain? Starvation? Futility? Frustration? Being eaten alive continuously? - And those were the better torments.

He killed his mother. He killed so many people. He sought to kill Gods.

_Do you know the horrors that await you in the Underworld?_

Her voice was like a dream.

"No."

The God smirked. "I thought so. You will be my champion-"

"Champion for what?"

The God glared at him. "Silence!" Seraphim fell to his knees. There was great pain in the pit of his stomach. He heaved, trying to expel it. "Curious that my sister kept you a pet for such time and did not break you. She makes mistakes while enraged. You will quickly come to understand that I am not her."

The pain stopped.

"Rise."

Seraphim rose on unsteady legs.

"Never speak while I do. You will address me with the proper respect, and you will never disobey. Do you understand, child?"

_Trapped. You're trapped._

"Yes."

"Good." Hades chortled. It was somber and perhaps the strangest thing Seraphim ever heard. "Don't look so glum. I am a fair man, far more than the Fates. Serve me well and you will be rewarded more handsomely than anything Hera ever promised."

"Yes, my- my lord."

"You learn quickly. Kharon," the boat monster raised his head to their master, "take him to the fighting pits of Elysium. He will train with the mortals first."

The response was growls and moans, a language foreign to Seraphim's ears.

“Excellent." Hades quirked a brow. "I will warn you once, Seraphim. Things are different in my domain. You were a sinner in life, so nothing will be easy for you here. Strenuous tasks await you, but I'm sure you will prevail." The God tilted his head a fraction. "And though I've been wrong before, something tells me that your destiny is greater than your death."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to see what happens next. I'm positive my direction will be WAY off... but who knows? Thanks for reading. Chapter six is on its way. Happy New Year!


	6. To Serve in Hell, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, but there's some closure.

Seraphim walked the length of the great Akropolis and found his master in council. The Lord of the Underworld was with his three anointed Judges of Souls: Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus. They were all small men, dressed in fine robes, and each still held the condescending air of the aristocrat they were in life.

Hades sat upon his throne, a grand chair of ebony, daised above his audience. There were several such thrones throughout the Isle of the King. Seraphim counted five in the Akropolis alone. The God enjoyed making men feel small, _to remind them of their place_ he'd said the time Seraphim asked, though that seemed a lie. The Underworld had no lack of intimidating sights, one look at the Mountain of the Damned made sinners plead for mercy and most sheep men cowed once they were brought before the judges. No one objected in this realm. Hades' rule was absolute.

Seraphim had to find a way out.

He passed the seated judges, went around the long table before the throne, and knelt in front of its short flight of stairs.

"My lord." He said in greeting, as such was customary.

"I trust you were successful."

"Yes, my lord. I have it here." He pulled the cloth wrapped object from his sash and presented it.

When he looked up, only for a moment, he saw a flicker of desire in the God's normally stoic eyes. Hades seemed eager to claim his gift, even began to scoot closer to Seraphim's outstretched hand. It was quite unlike any behavior Seraphim had witnessed from the God- _how long has he sought this?_ \- and it made him wonder what exactly rested in his palm.

Hades' voice was loud and sharp. "Leave me." He flicked his wrist to the judges, dismissing them. They bowed, turned and left.

"Now," he addressed Seraphim, "lift the fabric. Show me the ring."

He did so quietly, and Hades hissed _yes_ once the black circle was uncovered. "Excellent." The God said, plucking it from the cloth. "Excellent. You have served me well, child. Rise. Name what you would have of this realm and it is yours."

Seraphim wanted freedom, but this God would not release him so easily. He chose something he's wanted for a while.

"Give me leave to speak with your souls."

He could move through Elysium as he pleased but needed authorization to hop from each region. Seraphim thought his surveillance would have lessened as time passed, but the opposite proved to be true.

"My souls?" Hades met his eyes. The God stared in the way that told Seraphim he was reading his mind, his heart. "One soul perhaps, but more? You ask for much."

He stood tall, steeled himself. "I ask for two."

"Two souls." Hades tilted his head a fraction. "Two souls and none more." His attention returned to the ring in his hand. "Now leave me."

Seraphim bowed, turned and left.

O.o.O

The Asphodel Meadows were green, as always. Kharon ferried him to the land for only one favor. The boat man agreed to take him to the Isles of the Blessed next, and even bring him back to Elysium for no extra charge. Seraphim didn't question his luck. Questions could wait.

He knew exactly where she resided, had learned the information early in his servitude, so it was but a small thing to find her now.

Her house was one amongst many in a sizeable polis near a great lake. She wasn't inside when he entered, so he decided to await her return.

Seraphim didn’t know what she would make of him. Last she saw, he was a boy. Now he was a man, with gray skin and white hair, two red eyes and claws for hands.

_She'll think you're a monster. She'll scream, run, cower. She won't recognize you. This is foolishness. Leave her in the past where she belongs. Focus on your future, your plans._

He rose from his chair twice before sitting back down and forcing himself to stay.

_She'll remember me. She has to._

He got up to leave, _foolishness_ , but when his hand pushed the door open, she stood in the entryway holding a basket of herbs, blocking his escape.

"Who, who are you?" _She doesn't remember you_.

"I," he swallowed, what to say, _what can I say_ , "Seraphim, I'm Seraphim."

His mother gasped and dropped the basket. "Seraphim." She whispered, reaching out to touch him, as though he weren't real. "How could this be?"

It was a little overwhelming. His chest hurt. He didn't know what to make of seeing her again. He thought he was ready. He's a man now. _You're a man. Act like it._

Seraphim didn't know what to say. He laughed instead and then, "I died."

His mother's eyes swam with sorrow. "How are you like this? You're so young." She brushed his cheek, near his scar, "Why are you here so young?"

The answer was easy. "I've made mistakes." Her touch was distracting, it made him a boy again. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you." She smiled, laughed, a tear rolled down her right cheek. "Come," his mother grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the table, near the fire pit, "I've lamb and eggs, bread and good wine, I," she was silent for a moment. "I have salmon. I can make it how you like, with parsley and dill weed. I can crust it with garlic and serve it with lemon." She turned to him, smiling wide. "Would you like that, Seraphim?"

He smiled too as he sat. "Very much so, though I'm afraid I cannot stay long."

She moved around the room like a headless fowl gathering ingredients, but froze at his words, the wooden basket of food resting on her hip. "Where could you possibly have to go? We've reached our final destination, son."

Seraphim shook his head. "I don't think so," _she deserves better than this_ , "and neither should you. I've, I work under Hades."

Her eyes widened. "Hades? How?"

"It doesn't matter how. I've gained his favor. That's what's important."

She picked up more herbs and eyed him strangely. "You've the support of a God." His mother frowned. "I suppose that is reason to rejoice." She chewed her bottom lip for an instant. "I knew you would experience great things."

He chuckled. She was as he remembered: sharp, stern, overly concerned. Her sandy hair still streaked with gray, her face still held lines in the same places. She was still beautiful. "I wouldn't call them great things, but yes, apparently I'm a man quite unlike others."

"You're a man now." She agreed, a sad smile upon her lips. Sitting at her table, she handed him a knife and a handful of garlic. "Mince these. Now, you must tell me about your life. Have you children? Is there a wife to mourn you?"

"Children? No. No wife either."

Her brow drew together, nose wrinkling in confusion. "How could this be? I knew you'd be handsome but you're comelier than I ever imagined.” She smirked. "And I'm not saying that as your mother."

He laughed, though after a time it wilted with sorrow. "You are my mother," he finished cutting the garlic, put the pieces in a bowl, "in my heart you are, but I've been told it was another who birthed me."

She stopped her task- mashing herbs with mortar and pestle- and looked at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. "Who told you?"

"It doesn't matter." He knew the story. He saw that day as clear as if he'd been there. "Tell me of your time under Periander."

"Periander?" Her face lost color. "Why waste our time speaking of a tyrant?"

"Was he not my father?"

"I... he..." She shook her head and looked to the ground beside her.

"Why did you lie?"

"I," tears swelled in her eyes, falling as she continued to speak. "I wished to protect you from his brother's wrath. He tried to kill you when you were but a babe."

"I know. He died for it."

Arm shooting across the table, she grasped his hand hard. "Is that why you're here? Were you slain in the battle?"

"No," he turned their hands, held her palm gently. "Not that battle. Acrisius isn't what concerns me. Tell me of Elektra."

His mother sniffed. "You know her name." 

"Yes."

She sighed. "Have you met her?"

"Once."

"And your brother?"

"More than once." He wasn't willing to offer more than that.

Eyes narrowing, her head tilted slightly, slowly, like she he'd do just before demanding the truth of what he hid.

"Very well." Her voice was even. "You're a man. Men deserve secrets. Your mother was little more than a child when she arrived at your father's palace. I was to... teach her to behave appropriately toward your father. Train her in performing her duties as queen." 

His mother shook her head, shrugged. "She was a simple thing, and my king was brutal. I stopped her from killing herself early in the marriage." She continued, frowning. "I felt responsible for her then and got myself assigned as her head retainer. She grew to be tough," leaning forward, she grasped his hand, "like you. She became a new person- fierce- when she discovered she was with child. Your mother made me promise to protect you with my life, and I failed you."

She was near tears again.

"No." He stood up and walked around the table, bent to kneel in front of her, and held her face. "You did well. I've failed you."

"No, Seraphim-" 

"And I'll get you out of here." He rose and nuzzled her cheek, moving until he rubbed her nose. "I promise. I must leave.” He stood upright. "But I will return soon." He held her chin. "I love you."

She stood and wrapped him in an embrace, burying her face in his chest. "I love you more."

He bent and kissed her scalp. Smiling, he said what she'd say to him every night just before singing him to sleep. "I love you most."

O.o.O

She rested on an island far from the others. It was quite small, maybe a mile wide, with hills that rolled, stretching as far as his eye could see, the highest of which held a palace, all pristine and polished marble. It shone like a beacon in the sunlight and stood huge, white, and unnatural against the immense greenery.

Seraphim knew she would be there. All favored souls had such palaces. He turned to Kharon and nodded before beginning his trek. The walk from the coastline, through the forests, and up the hill wasn't taxing, which was to be expected, for little strained his body since dying, contrary to what his master warned. He felt more alive in the Underworld than ever he did.

Up and up he went, until the dirt road stopped, crowding over with pebbles and then jagged rocks, forcing him to climb until he reached a vast plateau in fields of blue.

It was strange, even here, even now, with all he's seen. Seraphim hoisted himself up and looked around. He could see the green Isles of the Blessed and the golden Elysium beyond it. He could even see where the sky turned black and the balls of fire flew from the Mountain of the Damned, a reminder to all that this was not life, this was life after, and there was but one God here.

 _You'll never disobey_.

Hades' voice chimed through his mind anytime he thought of finding an escape.

Seraphim sighed, turned, and started along a new path toward the palace, one wide and of smooth gray stone.

The fields of blue were an ocean of roses. He crushed one in his palm as he passed and watched it spring to new life when he tossed it to the ground.

The flowers ended where a vegetable garden began. He stole a golden apple from a potted tree and ate it as he roamed the palace.

There were voices- women- echoing against the walls. He followed them through rooms and halls, across a courtyard, up steps and around statues, until he found her, in a gynaeceum of sorts.

Her back was to him. She leaned over a table, snipping the stems of blue roses against the wood before arranging the flowers into vases.

Her hair was long, lustrous and waving, thick and brown, the ends brushing the backs of her thighs. She stood before an open casement, through it sunlight spilled into the room, warming her bronze skin russet, tanning it to a blessing.

"What do you think, Calista?" There was laughter in her voice. "How do you suppose he would respond?" She tilted her head to the right and looked up. "We'll have to see, won't we?”

She giggled, _such a sweet sound_.

Picking up the vase, she turned. Her eyes were cast down to the flowers. "He shouldn't be too upset-"

When she saw him, she gasped and dropped the vase, the clay shattering upon the stone floor. "You!" Her voice wavered. It was full of fear. "What are you doing here?" She took small steps backward until she bumped the table. "Who sent you? Was it Hera? She made you take my life, didn't she? What more could she want?"

What could he say to this small, frightened woman whom he killed _? It's alright. I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please, Mother. Forgive me_. It all seemed insufficient.

"I do no bidding for Hera. I, I'm here," Seraphim looked to the ground, scratching his neck, "I've wronged you. I've come to make amends."

"Amends?" She was angry, the terror vanished. "How can you possibly think there would be any forgiveness here? You're a murderer," she spat, "a monster who took pleasure in killing." She stood tall and held her head high as she met his gaze. "Leave this place, demon."

"Just listen-" he stepped closer and she grabbed a weapon. She was quick, reached for a large piece of the broken vase by her toes, and held the point toward him. The sight made him more sad than angry.

"Leave." She spoke with authority. "Now."

Seraphim narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms about his chest. "I will not."

She sighed and pursed her lips. "Then I will."

She stormed past him, was nearly out the door before he spoke. "You're my mother!"

Elektra paused midstep and turned around, holding the silks of her gown tightly against her chest. "You lie. I remember my son. You're nothing like him. I was promised he would be brought to me once he dies-"

"Not Heron. I'm the other one."

"What?" Her voice was a whisper as she walked back into the room. "What are you saying?"

"I was raised by a woman named Ariana." His tone was gentle. He rose and approached her slowly, as he would a wounded animal. "She attended the wife of King Periander. She told me of the promise she made before I was born..," he stood before her, she didn't shy away, "a vow she swore to you."

"That's not possible, my son-"

"Was betrayed and thrown over a cliff as an infant. Acrisius tried to kill me and stole my crown for a time, before being usurped by his grandson." That fact never failed to bring him joy. "My moth- Ariana found me along the shores and stole away with me in the night... until they found us when I was eleven." He couldn't keep the rage from his face. "His sons killed her. They destroyed my life and mutilated me."

She held his cheek and brushed her thumb against the scar under his eye. Her eyes were watery and in her face, he saw his own. "What did she name you?"

"Seraphim."

Her lower lip trembled as tears fell down her cheeks. "She kept her promise." His mother grabbed his hand. "Not being there for you was the greatest mistake of my life."

She pulled him into a fierce embrace, sobbing upon his chest all the while. "I'm so sorry. You were mine and I left you. I would do anything to change that, anything."

He held her close and rubbed her back. "Don't cry, Mother. Don't cry."

O.o.O

He felt her presence the moment he entered Elysium. Her energy, always manic, grated upon his mind, it made his skin crawl, it left him agitated.

Tisiphone flew above them, circling his boat ride, and fell in step beside him once he reached the main rode. They passed hills and bridges and farmland. By the time they reached the city, the sun began to sink in the east, causing the wheat fields, the white buildings, the statues, the fountains to appear gold in the approaching dusk.

"Our Lord Hades demands you attend him presently."

"Why didn't you say as much earlier?" He glowered.

"I'm telling you now."

It was all the little things that made him detest her.

"Alright." She was smirking, always smirking. He turned back toward the pier and she did the same. "I don't need you following me around."

In the next instant, the woman was in front of him, golden wings fluttering, blocking his path. "I do not appreciate your tone, demon." She hissed. "Neither am I a page. You will regard me with the proper respect. Do you understand?"

Seraphim rolled his eyes and walked around her, continuing to the pier. His time under Hades humbled him to a disgusting degree. Where in life he would have sought to kill Tisiphone merely for irritating him, here he couldn't do that. Here he had to hold his tongue, stay his hand, be near cordial to her. _The humiliation._ How he hated it here.

As he walked, Seraphim’s mind drifted to the woman beside him. He was nearly certain, though not entirely, that she wanted him. Women were hard to read at times with such matters. Where her sisters regarded him with the same contempt as they did every other miscreant, Tisiphone took special care to remind him of his failings; and she did it all with that same smirk. In the beginning he thought the attention was partially attributed to her sector of castigation. He was a murderer in life, and she was tasked with punishing such offenders. Simple enough really, until it became muddied; until he recognized the lust in her eyes when she thought only he was looking; until he saw the hunger in those smirks; and there was that time, only the once, when he was sure he smelled her arousal. She was yelling and floating and just out of reach, but he smelt her. That's when the first seeds of his plan began to blossom.

Again, her feet were on the ground, keeping pace with his own. Seraphim was sure she volunteered to deliver their master's order.

"I heard you visited a woman in the Asphodel Meadows," her anger was gone, "that you went of your own volition."

He glanced down at her. "What of it?"

"All your time here, and you've never asked for such permissions. Why now?"

_Because I didn't have a plan yet._

"A man is allowed his secrets, even in death."

She crossed her arms and huffed. "Very well."

Seraphim glanced at her again when he was certain she was distracted. Her gown was long and flowing and the dark color of settled blood; her skin was as pale and unblemished as the full moon; and her hair, the feathers of her wings were golden, as yellow as the setting sun. Though with all those qualities, she would never be beauteous. Her hair was too fine and limp. Her nose was broad and beaked. Her lips were thin, disagreeably so, and when she was angry, they receded to nothing; her mouth reduced to a snarling hole with teeth. The combination of her scant features made it so her face appeared too large and plain, which was never an issue for Seraphim because he had no intention of fucking her, but now-

She and her sisters held Hades' trust and were second in that only to his wife, _maybe_. He was relatively sure of that. Tisiphone guarded the God's finest treasures and there was one such object that Seraphim discovered he could use to climb his way out of this wretched afterlife.

It was a long shot, but it was the only one he had.

"Will you trail me all the way to the Isle of the King?"

"No," she said, "I'm to see you to the boat."

He ignored the insult. "It's just beyond that hill, you don't-"

"What business have you with a soul on an isle of the Blessed? One as vile as you are unworthy of such privilege. What lie did you tell our lord?"

"What?" Had she followed him all day? It startled him to realize he hadn't detected her at all. Seraphim glared. "I do not answer to you. Your message has been received. There's the boat. Leave me."

Tisiphone laughed in turn, and as ever, it was cruel. "Be grateful our lord is so taken with you, demon. It is a rare man who can speak to me so and keep his tongue."

He was sick of her. Standing tall, he squared his shoulders, looked down into her eyes, and prepared for battle.

Apparently, the deity thought it all rather amusing. She could barely keep his eye through fits of laughter. "You pretend to be so proud. I can smell your sorrow. You must learn to hide it better. Were we on opposing sides, it would be an easy thing to use those emotions against you."

 _Neutrality be damned, she'll learn_. He reached for her, but she was airborne in an instant, flew away, leaving him with his wrath.

_Damn her. Damn, damn, damn her._

Her laughter rang through his mind all the way to the island.

Seraphim reached the Isle of the King when the moon began to rise. It shone high from his left and illuminated his path all the way to the threshold of his destination.

The great Akropolis was torchlit. He passed three women as he entered. They wore thick black robes stitched with luminescent patterns that beamed like stars against the night sky. Their gowns were unique, singular, curious. Everything about it was odd. Stranger was the fact that they looked to be the same woman, just of differing ages. Their pale skin was bluish. Their hair was not gray, not black, but somewhere in between, like charcoal.

The old one smiled when she met his eye. Her dark gaze was bright with anticipation, like she knew his future. The woman stopped beside him, grabbed his arm and looked up, upon his face.

"Only together will you be free." Her small voice resonated loudly in his ears, echoing.

"What?" The queerness of it made him pause.

The young one, a girl, turned back and tugged the old woman's free hand. "He is not the one." Her high pitch squeaked. "It is the other."

They were speaking in riddles, speaking of him. "What are you talking about?"

The old woman released him and smiled. "Forgive an old woman her ramblings, child. My eyes are not what they once were."

Seraphim frowned and moved along quickly. The women were peculiar, more so than anything he's seen before, and for some reason, they unsettled him. He hadn't felt such discomfort since he was a small child and afraid of thunderstorms. It was ridiculous. Seraphim quelled the feeling and walked tall, like a man.

Hades was again in his council chamber, though alone this time.

"My lord," Seraphim said kneeling, "I am at your disposal."

"Rise. Walk with me."

The God led him through halls and up a winding staircase, stopping at a balcony that overlooked the whole of the Underworld.

"You've proven yourself to be a loyal subject and your efficiency is unmatched."

"You honor me, my lord." Akhilleus told him it was always the right thing to say when a God gave a compliment.

Hades smirked. "I trust your reunions went well."

"Yes."

"I am pleased to hear it. It is time again that you rise anew. Your next task will be your greatest. You will retrieve a stone."

"A stone, my lord?" He wouldn't give more information about the object other than description and location, Seraphim knew. _I'll find out what I'm stealing..._

"Yes. It is quite small and crimson. Fly west from the ruins of Pylos until you reach a crescent shaped island with two volcanoes, one will be at each tapered end. There, in the heart of the northern most volcano, you'll find the stone in a location that holds no natural place. It will be guarded by Khárubdis-"

"Khárubdis?" He'd never heard such a name.

Hades narrowed his eyes, his offense at being interrupted clear. "She is my niece and a powerful opponent. You must be swift, use your weapon, grab the stone and leave immediately. She has her father's will of manipulations and can control the sea around her. If you wish to keep your earthly form, take heed. Now go. There is much to be done and time grows short."


End file.
